Finn's Tale
by karmacanary
Summary: Part Three of "The Memory Keeper" series. Finn Jones is every inch his father's son, except for his mother's flashing green eyes. He's a dashing rapscallion with a thirst for adventure and restless nature that's driven him to a far away kingdom, chasing a story that might point him to his destiny, and to the girl who's intertwined with it somehow. Rated M, as always!
1. Bryony

Bryony turned, one arm stretching out across the pillow. Her hand clenched and unclenched, as though trying to find purchase. She made a sound of distress, but didn't wake, slipping further into the dream.

_"It's now!" The woman cried._

_"Now?" The man reacted in pure panic. "It can't be now! It's too soon!"_

_"We have to stop." She slid off her horse, staggering as she hit the ground. She bent over, putting her hands on her knees. "Ooooh. This one's coming fast!"_

_"The last one was fast!" He complained, rushing to her side and holding her up against him. "Can you ride? I can put you in front of me on my horse."_

_The woman's scream made it all too clear that it was far too late for that. Her legs gave way, and he laid her down in the dirt, working frantically to strip her down as her belly heaved and twisted. She was soaked from her birth-water, and her breeches clung to her as he ripped them away, with each of her cries cutting the air and lending him the sort of calm that only comes with extreme terror._

_"I need to get something spread beneath you, love," He said evenly. "I'm just going to go to my saddlebag - "_

_"No!" The woman's hand reached down, gripping his with a claw-like intensity. "I need to push. I need to push now." The final word carried an emphatic undertone that can only be spoken by a woman in hard labor. He wasn't stupid enough to argue with her._

_She pulled herself up, bearing down with each contraction, and a few moments later, the babe pushed out into his father's hands._

_And promptly slid through his fingers, landing in the dirt._

_"Ah!" The man cried, picking him up, wiping him clean with his shirt. The babe gave out a hearty, robust cry, and the mother heard it, sagging back in relief, tears streaming down her face and into her matted, blonde hair._

_"Is he okay?" She asked, weakly, still panting from her efforts._

_"He's fine," The man said, staring at his son in wonder. He lifted his tiny hand. "He's beautiful, love." He carefully wrapped his shirt around the child, placing him in his mother's arms before he turned to fetch his saddlebags and make them both more comfortable._

_"I never thought a son of mine would be born on dry land, much less in the dirt," The man remarked with a smile as he tenderly pushed his saddlebag under his wife's head to support it._

_"I guess he couldn't wait any longer," She said, stroking his dark, downy hair._

_"He was ready for an adventure, and that's the truth of it," The man agreed._

_He smiled down at his wife, his blue eyes sparkling, but they soon clouded over, became troubled, as the widening pool of blood on the ground began to writhe and move like a living thing, sprouting vines that reached out, twining around the mother and babe. The man's blue eyes changed to forest green as the vines overtook him, slowly wrapping around his throat, dripping with blood..._

Bryony sat up with a start, rubbing her face and taking a deep breath. This wasn't the first time she'd had the dream, but this time, the details were a little easier to remember. The words were clearer. She opened the drawer on her nightstand, reaching in for her journal and her pen. She'd almost filled this one up. She'd need to buy a new one soon.

Her glance moved over to the bookshelf across the room, noting row after row of journals, filled with thoughts and dreams and meanderings that played through her mind. She closed her eyes, concentrating again so she wouldn't miss anything. Then she put her pen to paper and wrote:

_The smell and warmth of the earth around them_

_The insects, milling around the grass and the way the horse's tail swatted the flies away_

_The deep rusty smell of the blood as it mingled with the earth_

_The light of the sun through closed eyelids_

_Eyes the color of an evergreen, deep and fathomless, like a sea in the fading light_

She closed the journal, chewing on the end of her pen, wondering where that came from. The sea wasn't usually green, though it could be, in some places. Or so she'd been told. His eyes were just...deep. Full of secrets and longings.

_Secrets and longings._

She let her mind ponder that as she reached for the glass of water she kept on her nightstand, realizing at once that she'd overslept as soon as she saw the clock.

"Shit!" She exclaimed, leaping out of bed.

"It's 8:15!"


	2. Restless

**Just so you're not all wondering (and in case you missed my note in the reviews), Bryony is pronounced "Brian" with an "ee" on the end. And yes, there's a reason she's got an unusual name. Remember Kai? Google is your friend. **

**If you're new to my work or happening upon this without reading anything prior, this is a sequel to "The Memory Keeper" and "The Memory Keeper's Daughter." If you want a good background on Finn, you need to read chapters 8, 9 and 10 of "Captain's Choice" so you understand who Bryony is and get to know Finn a bit better.  
**

**Now let's get back to the reason we're all _really_ here...**

* * *

"Fiiiiiinnnn!"

"Stay with me love," He urged gripping her hips in his hands and pulling her buttocks back against him just a little bit harder as he rocked against her. She let out a short shriek in response and he leaned forward, clapping a hand over her mouth.

"Shhhh. There are children about," He cautioned. She was being entirely too loud. He'd better end this before she screamed the house down. He slid his free hand around the curve of her buttocks, down her hip and around to the hot delta between her thighs. She shuddered convulsively as his fingers circled and probed deftly within her, moving against the rhythm of his hips as he pumped himself deep inside her. Within moments, she was biting down on his hand. Her fingers gripped the brass rings on the doors of the wardrobe in front of her and she clenched and shook around him, going weak at the knees.

He pinned her up against the wardrobe, surging into her heavily as he followed her over the edge. For a moment, his forehead rested against the wardrobe door next to hers before he pulled out, flipping her skirts back down and rebuttoning his breeches. He gave her a friendly pat on the behind.

"Are you ready to go, lass?"

The girl straightened her chestnut hair, smoothing and tucking the strands that had escaped her elaborate hairstyle with hands that were still shaking. She nodded her head. "I -I suppose."

He chucked her under the chin before leaning down to give her a friendly buss on the mouth. "Come along, Marianne. They'll be serving the cake soon." He took her by the hand, leading her to the door. A quick glance showed the hallway clear.

"You go first, love. I'll take the other staircase."

She nodded again, still slightly flustered. Just as he opened the door wider, she put her hand on his chest.

"Finn?"

"Yes?"

"That was...wonderful." She looked up at him, and all the stars in the universe were in her eyes. He smiled down at her with fond amusement.

"You were quite entertaining, yourself. Perhaps we can do it again sometime."

"Tonight?" She asked. "I can talk my father into staying a few days, I'm sure. I'll leave my door unlocked."

Finn's eyes shifted right, then back. "No need to put your father out, love. We'll catch up another time." He made a mental note to not catch up another time. Good God, she was looking at him like a toddler being handed a puppy. The girl was besotted. No doubt about it.

She looked down at the ground, utterly crestfallen. He lifted her chin and smiled at her.

"I'm leaving tomorrow on a sea voyage, anyway. You'd only be bored."

That got her spirits up a bit, though she was obviously still not thrilled with the outcome.

"Perhaps when you return, then," She offered breathlessly. "You're welcome to visit."

He nodded. "Perhaps. Now be a good lass and don't cause a stir. It wouldn't do for us to be caught together."

Finn met her gaze calmly even as he saw the gears turning in her head. If they were caught together, there would be scandal, but she looked as though she might consider it to be worth the price - if the payment was a forced marriage.

Obviously, she didn't know his father. Or him, for that matter.

"You are far too lovely a person to have anyone's disrespectful tongue wagging in your direction." He said gallantly.

It worked. She looked at him, doe-eyed as he ushered her out the door. Once she'd reached the end of the hall, he turned to head for the other staircase. He'd only made it about a dozen paces when he felt a hand clamp down on his neck.

"Walk with me."

He rolled his eyes.

"Hello, mother."

She pulled him along, nodding at passers-by and calling out friendly hellos to people they knew, and her smile never faltered as she opened her bedroom door and indicated that he should step inside with a pass of her hand.

Finn surreptitiously smoothed his hair as his mother closed the door behind them, and then he waited for the ball to drop.

"Finn." She sighed.

"She approached _me_," He said, by way of defense.

"As if _that_ doesn't happen on a regular basis." She raised her eyebrows. "That's not what I want to talk to you about, as it turns out."

"Oh." He gave a grin, more than happy to be off the hook on this one. She folded her arms, looking at him.

"Henry tells me you're shoving off tomorrow. Again."

He rubbed the stubble of his beard, looking sheepish. "I was going to tell you. I'd only just decided."

"You just got back!"

"That was three days ago," He protested. "And this is only a short run - Henry needs Idirium glass to repair one of the windows in the chapel at Camelot."

"Finn, this has to stop."

He pulled away, turning in a circle. "Oh, come on, mother. You can't expect me to just hang around the castle all the time."

"I'm not saying that." She refuted. "But there are things you could be applying yourself to here. Your grandfather was thinking about starting a navy or a coast guard or something. You'd be on the water."

"I'm not a military man. I'm the son of a bloody pirate."

"_Reformed_ pirate," She corrected. "And he was once a military man. There's nothing wrong with that, Finn. I think you just need some...direction."

"I'm still young, mother. I have my whole life ahead of me," He pointed out. "Plenty of time to decide."

"You're twenty-five, Finn. When do you think your life begins? This is it. Now. And you need to start figuring it out instead of whirling from one place and one girl to the next. You need to find some roots somewhere, or with something." She gave him a soft smile. "Or some_one_."

He held up a hand. "Surely you're not suggesting Marianne..."

"Marianne!" She squeaked. "_Princess_ Marianne?" She shook her head, open-mouthed. "Do you have any sense at _all_? The girl doesn't have a brain in her head."

"I wasn't looking at her head." Well, not the front of it, anyway. But he wasn't cad enough to say that out loud.

Emma let out a long sigh, and carefully smoothed her son's hair out of his devilishly gorgeous green eyes. "I know what you're doing, Finn. You can't feel like you're sure about anything, so you keep the whole world at arm's length. But I'm here to tell you - it's lonely that way. We all love you. We just want you happy."

He looked down. "I know."

"You need a plan, Finn. Set a course. Find your life."

"I just feel like when I find it - whatever it is - I'll _know_ it. Like you did. Like my father did."

Emma raised her brows, looking at her son sardonically. "If you think we both got hit by some magical lightning bolt that made everything clear from the start - you obviously weren't listening on family story night. We both followed our guts, then we followed our hearts. About life, and about each other. Don't be waiting for some grand sign from the cosmos, Finn. It doesn't work that way."

He nodded. "I suppose you're right."

"Come on," She said, sliding her arm around his waist. "Your niece and nephew are destroying the place. We need you on guard duty."

He chuckled, opening the door for them both.

"You know, I can honestly say that twins are the best lifelong prank I could have ever wished upon my sister."


	3. Fate

"Sorry, Finn. I didn't mean to get you in trouble." Henry clapped his brother on the back. "It's just that Emeline has been nagging me about the chapel window for a month now, and you know how hard it is to find Idirium glass..."

Finn shook his head. "It's not a problem at all. I need to get away."

Henry gave him a very knowing look. "Which girl is it this time?"

"What?"

"Who's making moon eyes and sending you running?" Henry pressed. "The minute one of them sets her cap for you, that's the end of it."

"We can't all marry our first girlfriend, mate." He shrugged. "And it's not that. You know me. I just have to be out there."

"You are your father's son, Finn. And you have our mother's emotional availability." Henry smirked.

"If she heard you say that - "

"It's true," Henry shrugged. "Once she loves you, she's an open book. But until she knows you well enough...it's always been tough to get under her skin. You're a lot like her, Finn, and if you're not careful, you're going to end up lonely."

"Look around, Henry," He said, pointing down off the parapet where they were standing to the clusters of young women scattered across the courtyard. "Does it look like I'll be lonely tonight?" He gave his brother an unrepentant grin.

"Not that kind of lonely. I mean the real kind." Henry's eyes landed on his wife, standing near the rest of his family. "I can't imagine life without Emeline. Or my kids."

Finn rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable at just how much Henry's words rang true.

"Henry?"

"Yes?

"How did you know it was right? Emeline, Camelot...all of it. How did you know they were your destiny?"

"With Emeline, it was easy," He explained. "I just never considered any other alternative. And with Camelot...well, the Lady of the Lake sort of dropped that one in my lap. But it fit. It felt right."

"Ah, yes," Finn nodded. "The mythical "Lady of the Lake."

"She's not that mythical," Henry proclaimed. "I talk to her all the time."

"Really?" Finn was intrigued. "I've never met a Naiad. Meriel's the resident authority on mystical water dwellers."

"When you bring the glass to Camelot, I'll take you to meet her."

"Now that," Finn said, grinning widely, "Sounds suspiciously like an adventure."

###

"They're at it again," Meriel said, nudging her husband with her elbow. Kai looked over to see his children engaged in a serious slap-fest, most likely over a piece of cake. He rolled his eyes.

"Zale! Ondine! Stop."

At the sound of his voice, two little blonde heads turned in unison, their mouths forming perfect little "o's" as they stared, wide-eyed at the voice of authority.

"Share. Both of you."

Two little faces bearing big blue eyes broke into smiles, and the situation was immediately under control.

"What I wouldn't have given for that power of yours, mate."

Kai laughed, pouring his father-in-law another tankard of ale. "It does come in handy."

"Killian always says it's a miracle either of our kids had any hair left at all," Emma remarked. "You should have seen the way Meriel and Finn used to fight."

"He did, love," Killian reminded her.

"Yeah, I guess he did," She said absently. She leaned over to bump shoulders with her daughter. "It's hard to believe they're two already."

Meriel gave her an arch look. "I assure you, they are every inch of two. If it weren't for Kai and our army of babysitters, I'd be carted away by now." She smiled, watching her grandparents each take a child, planting kisses on cake-smeared cheeks and cooing madly over them both.

Snow approached the table, balancing little Ondine on her hip, carefully adjusting her frilly little dress. "They're starting the entertainment outside. The jugglers are first and then we've got the fire eaters and finally the minstrels for story time. Do you have a blanket to spread on the grass?"

"I'll go get one," Meriel volunteered, getting up from the table. "Kai can wrangle the rest of the children into some semblance of order."

"We could rent him out," David volunteered, prying little Zale's cakey fingers out of his hair. "We'd make a fortune. The kingdom would be set for decades to come." He did a careful juggle, as Zale took the opportunity to make a dive for his grandfather.

"Whoa! Zale!"

"My Baba!" He reached his arms out, spreading his fingers wide, straining as hard as he could.

"All right, all right," David acquiesced. "I'll give you to your Baba." He handed Zale over to Killian, who promptly tossed the boy up in the air, catching him and then blowing raspberries on his belly.

"That's my lad! Zale loves his Baba!"

David rolled his eyes, as Snow bit back a laugh. Killian absolutely _refused_ to be called Grandpa, Grandfather or Grandpapa. He said it made him feel ancient and he was far from in his dotage. Somehow, the children stuck him with Baba, and it was just fine with him.

A trumpet blast announced the start of the festivities in the courtyard, so Killian handed Zale to his father, who followed David and Snow out the doors, with Meriel trailing behind bearing blankets.

Emma got up, walking around to Killian's side of the table. "You coming? Or do you want to wait for the fire-eaters?"

Killian gave her a wry grin, craning his neck to look around the hall and through the crowd spreading out towards the door. "Do I dare ask where our boy is?"

Emma made a face. "No, you don't want to ask. Probably hiding from me."

He reached up, pulling her down across his lap. "What now, love? Am I going to have to get stern with him again? And who is it this time?"

Emma looked around and lowered her voice. "Princess Marianne."

Killian quirked a brow. "That bit of fluff? Well, I suppose she's his type."

Emma punched him in the arm for that one. "His_ type_? He can do better than that!"

"So says the mother. But I meant that she's female, and reasonably pretty. At this age, that'll do." He took a long drink of his ale, setting the tankard down.

Emma shifted herself off his lap with a sigh. "Can we talk for a minute?"

"That sentence rarely bodes well," He commented. "Is this about Finn?"

"What are we going to do about him, Killian? He's just so...restless. And not in a good way."

"That's ever been the way with him, love." He pushed her hair back off her shoulder. "But he does seem to be drifting of late."

"I'm all for letting him sow his wild oats and try new career paths, but he just can't seem to _settle_ on anything."

"I know. He's not sure what he wants, is all."

"He has some wild idea that his destiny is just going to drop in his lap," Emma said, exasperated. "Like there's going to be some great cosmic arrow that points him right at it, or something."

Killian went still for a moment, then he sat back, rubbing his beard.

"What if he's not wrong?"

"Come again?" Emma's brows rose.

"Seriously, love. Maybe we've been handling this the wrong way." He reached into the pocket of his waistcoat, pulling something out and setting it on the table.

"The compass." Emma's eyes showed her dawning realization. "The Northern Kingdom."

"Aye. I'd forgotten all about it, to tell you the truth." He leaned back in his chair, studying the compass thoughtfully. "Something happened there, and you and I both know that sometimes, fate makes things happen for a reason."

"What are you trying to say, Killian? That it's time to tell him?"

"I'm saying, love, that you may not be the only savior in the family."


	4. Tristan and Isolde

She was on the train, and the lights in the tunnels were sucking her in. She should have known better than to stare idly out the window. Anything repetitive like that, particularly with light, and she was a goner. That's part of the reason why she worked at the coffee house. Everything was muted there, and people were always coming and going, filling the place with a creative, kinetic energy that she really liked. The lending library was an awesome plus, and she found herself curling up on one of the overstuffed sofas most nights after work, reading, or writing out whatever had overtaken her mind.

She had an office job once, doing data entry for some big law firm that needed to compile statistics for its corporate clients in their various cases. It only lasted a few days before she got fired. The rows of numbers and smooth, repetitive motion of the keystrokes carried her away, and she was helpless against it. That was a few years ago, in college. She managed it better now.

Usually, that is. Today she wasn't paying attention. Today, she slipped.

_"Brangane! Take her!" The man said, drawing his sword. "I'll draw them away. Get her into the caves!"_

_"But - "_

_"Now! Go!"_

_The young woman slid her arm around the other woman, who was heavy with child. It was clear she was deeply in labor, hunched over at the waist and holding her belly. Her skirts were soaked, clinging to her body as she bit down hard on her lip to keep her screams from being heard. She took a deep, shuddering breath and managed to get a word out around her latest contraction._

_"Tristan..."_

_He stepped forward, kissing her forehead tenderly. "I'll draw them away and then circle back to find you. You need to get to shelter. Brangane will get you into the caves - it'll be warmer there...for the babe." His voice cracked slightly. "Go, Isolde. Keep our child safe." He kissed her again, lingeringly, pulling back as she bore down with another contraction. He held her until it passed, then shoved her almost roughly at the younger woman, and took off running down the beach._

_Her eyes clearly showed the love she had for this man as she strained to look over her shoulder. Her lady's maid pulled her along, glancing fearfully over all around as she carefully stepped over the rocks along the shoreline._

_"We'll have to climb around the rocks, my lady," Brangane urged. "And there's no help for it, you'll have to walk through the water part-way. 'Tis time for the tide, and the entrance to the cave is flooding. It'll be dry once we're in." The young woman looked as though she very much doubted that. She threw her arm around Isolde's waist, pulling and supporting her alternately as the contractions came faster._

_They sloshed through the icy water, scrambling over sharp rocks and into the cave as the waves of the incoming tide pulled at their skirts. Isolde had the palm of her hand jammed into her mouth, biting down hard and screaming into it with every contraction - and they seemed to be coming one on top of the other now. She staggered, falling to her knees in the water. Her body convulsed as she bore down, unable to stop it as the most primal of instincts took over._

_"My lady!" Brangane shrieked. She reached down to try to pull her up, but it was too late. With a mighty heave, Isolde expelled the child, down into the icy sea water._

_Brangane pulled the baby out immediately, wiping it's face and rubbing warmth into its limbs and belly. The child gave a watery cough, then a shrill, thin cry. She put her hand over the babe's mouth to keep it silent, holding it close to herself to give it warmth. She managed to cut the cord with the small dirk she carried in her pocket, but it was a difficult, slippery job. There was a moment of pure terror as she realized she could hear the shouts of the men and the clash of swords._

_She tried awkwardly to pull Isolde to her feet with one hand, but the woman was too weakened by the birth, still bleeding badly, and the icy water was wearing her down._

_"B-Brangane," the woman whispered hoarsely. "The baby...?"_

_"A girl, my lady. She lives, but we need to get you out of here."_

_The woman shook her head slowly, shaking convulsively with cold and fatigue. "Take her..." She gasped. "Keep her...safe."_

_"My lady...?" The young woman was in tears, shaking her head violently. "I cannot."_

_"You must. He'll come for her." Isolde stopped, taking deep, gasping breaths. "Get me out of the water. I need...to find some ground beneath me." She lurched forward, as if the act of speaking had been too much. Brangane fashioned a sling of sorts from her apron, tying the baby tight against her chest for warmth as she managed to get both arms around Isolde, helping her stagger to her feet._

_Together they pushed through the water, and as they moved, Brangane could see the pools of red swirling around them at every outsurge. Her lady was bleeding out. It wouldn't be long._

_At last they made the entrance to the cave, and Brangane listened carefully, hearing no voices or other sounds from the beach. She stepped cautiously out, looking left and right._

_"They're gone, my lady."_

_Isolde nodded, unable to speak. She had Brangane's hand in a death-grip, stumbling over rocks and finally breaking through the worst of it to fall to her knees on the sand._

_She raised her head, her lips moving soundlessly. Brangane could just make out the word: baby. She leaned down, uncovering the babe enough that the mother could see it. Isolde reached out a shaking hand, tracing her daughter's face with her fingers. then she grasped one hand firmly with the other, twisting and wrenching until she pulled the heavy gold ring from her finger. She reached up, unclasping the chain and pendant from her neck, looping the ring onto the chain alongside the pendant and fastening it around the baby's neck._

_She sagged back on her heels, breathing rapidly now, as if there weren't enough air. She raised her head once more, and her lips formed a word: go._

_Brangane nodded, tucking the babe back in her shelter. It was growing dark, and if she moved further down the beach, there were drier caves where she might pass the night. Come the daylight she'd have to find help, or a wet-nurse at the very least. She dashed at her cheeks with her free hand, wiping the tears from her eyes so that she might see better in the growing darkness._

_Isolde watched her go, sobs racking her body. She turned her head, and in the dim light, she could just make out the glint of metal up against the rocks. She squinted her eyes, trying to focus. She bit down on her lip, whimpering as she crawled, pulling her torn knees and shredded skirts over the sand and smaller rocks, leaving a trail of blood behind her, until she fell, at last, at his side._

_He didn't move from where he'd fallen, slouched against the rocks. The sword wound deep in his neck showed clearly how he died. Her hand reached out for him, even as her own life bled away, and her fingers came to rest upon the heavy gold ring upon his hand. She breathed his name, and then she breathed no more._

_Her blood continued to seep into the earth beneath her, and soon the red began to change, deepening into a darker green, and as her body sank into the sand beneath her, branches began to reach up from the earth to engulf her, shooting out of her skin and twining and twisting as they climbed toward the sky. Her outstretched hand became a root, growing across to where it rested upon the hand of her true love, transforming it into a vine that twined within her branches, spreading up the rock, overtaking what remained of him until there was nothing left of either of them but the bush and the vine that bowed it over, forming an arch._

_And when the dawn broke, the sun glinted off the pools of water and patches of ice upon the sand, glaring upon the spatters of blood where they lay..._

The train lurched to a stop and Bryony took a deep breath, shaking her head to clear it. Oh, God. That one again. She closed her eyes tightly, fighting back the tears. She'd had that one three times in the last month, and always with the same result.

She was freezing.

It was ninety degrees outside, and she knew she wouldn't get warm. She got off the train, shivering a bit as the gooseflesh pricked her arms. She made the five block walk to the coffee shop, and poured herself an enormous cup of Earl Grey, but even that didn't do the trick. It would be hours before she felt anything near normal again.

She didn't bother to reach for her journal. Of all the visions, this one had been with her for her entire life. This one, there was no escaping. Her hand slid up, absently rubbing the pendant around her neck.

And the heavy gold band, twined with roses, glinted on her finger.


	5. Pulled

_**Hello readers - and thank you for all your reviews! Reader NuuNuu asked if I had an idea of how long Finn's Tale would be. Honest to God, I don't. I will confess to you now that when I started Meriel's story, I knew only three things: Who Kai was, why he was with her, and what gift Rumple would give at the end. That's it. Everything else came as I started typing. I honestly only expected it to go about 15 chapters, so 50 was as surprising to me as it was to you. I was telling two love stories simultaneously in the last one, though, so that might have made a difference in length. I guess I'll just be here with my fingers at the keyboard, letting Finn tell me when he's good and done. I've got a little more in my outline for his story, so who knows?**_

_**So now we know what happened that fateful morning in the Northern Kingdom, before Emma and Killian came along. And we know that Bryony had some very special parents! Now we just need to get these two together, so let's do that, shall we?**_

* * *

Finn slid down from his saddle, and his eye caught his ring, glinting in the sunlight. He flexed his hand, tilting it left and right, staring at the intricate vine pattern etched into the heavy gold.

"Are you ready?" Henry asked, coming up beside him. "Don't worry - she's actually pretty friendly."

"Is she going to give me a sword? That would be terrific, mate."

Henry smiled. "Not likely. There's only one Excalibur, and it's mine."

"Our Mother had ownership of that sword for a time, if I recall the story correctly," Finn pointed out.

"She did," Henry agreed. "And you even had a go at it once, remember?"

"I thought my father was going to shout the house down when I reached for it. He forgets we're technically royalty."

"You were four, and really lucky. If the sword had judged you unworthy..."

"Well, it obviously has excellent taste."

Henry led him over to the small boat tethered at the edge of the lake. "Finn," He said with a sigh. "The Lady of the Lake is a highly-respected magical creature. Try to show some humility, okay?"

Finn raised his brows. "Not really in my nature. But I suppose I could _try_."

He climbed into the boat and together, he and Henry rowed out to the middle of the lake. Once they'd reached the center, Henry pulled the oars up, laying them in the boat. He cleared his throat and called out.

"Nimue?"

"I am here." Her voice was serenity itself, playing across the ear like ripples on the water. Finn turned to have a look at her and found himself bedazzled. She was beauty personified, too ethereal to touch.

"I'd like you to meet Finn," Henry said, by way of introduction. "He's my brother."

"He shares your courageous mother," She replied, inclining her head in Finn's direction. "Courage runs through your family. I owe your sister a great debt for her service to this kingdom."

"Ah yes," Flinn said. "Meriel and Kai and their grand adventure. Wish I'd been invited."

"Your destiny is still before you," She informed him. "That is why you have come, is it not?"

"You can tell him that?" Henry asked. "You won't tell me anything about the future."

"I am not a seer," The Lady corrected. She turned again to Finn. "I do know what you seek and in gratitude for your family's service, I will help you, if I can."

Finn gave a quick. semi-deferential bow of his head. "Thank you."

The Lady lifted the corner of her mouth slightly. "Your brother is right. You could do with some humility."

Finn said nothing, merely waiting for further instruction. She moved closer to his side of the boat, tilting her head to look at him curiously.

"You are restless," She observed. "Because you are torn - by your ancestry, and the circumstances of your birth. This, you must overcome."

"What does that mean?" Finn asked, a bit confused. "My ancestry?"

"You belong on the water. The sea is in your blood."

"My father_ is_ a pirate."

"He is more than that." She tilted her head again, as though reading him. "Kai may be of more assistance to you, as he can travel more freely than I can. You have something of the water realm within you."

"What does that mean? Exactly?" He asked.

"As to your destiny," She went on, choosing not to answer, "You must first find out who you really are. From there, you must follow your purpose. Once you have done that, you will find that which completes you."

Finn raised a brow. "Don't suppose you could be a little more specific?"

"I have told you what I can," She advised. "The rest is for you to do. And like your sister before you, and your mother before her, it is vital that you find what you seek. In doing so, you will save us all."

Henry stared at her, open-mouthed. "Another savior?"

She inclined her head graciously. "It would appear so."

Finn looked from The Lady to Henry and back again.

"Bloody Hell."

###

"Your heritage? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Emma looked at Finn, completely clueless. "Is she talking about your grandparents?"

"Maybe it's because I'm not of noble birth," David surmised. "I was adopted into royalty. Maybe that's where we start."

"Oh, how could that be a problem?" Snow objected.

Finn shook his head. "No, I have a feeling she's talking about my paternal ancestry. And she suggested I speak with Kai."

"Me?" Kai was rubbing slow circles on Ondine's back as she lay sleeping on his shoulder. Her brother was presently also asleep, and drooling down his Baba's neck. "Why would she think I could help?"

"There's not a lot to tell on my side," Killian mused. "My father was a brigand and my mother died shortly after my birth."

Kai looked at his wife. "You were named for your father's mother, weren't you?"

"Yes, she was." Emma nodded, affirming that.

"Meriel is a very unique name. And one of significance. It means 'shining sea'. Where did your grandmother come up with that?" He asked Killian.

"I'm not sure," Killian answered. "My grandmother, if memory serves, was an unwed woman named Marissa, which is quite a mouthful on its own. Shortly after my mother's birth, she ran off, leaving her child to be raised by a vicar and his wife. My father seduced my mother under the vicar's nose and ran off with her, like any typical Jones man. That's all I know of the situation. Further back than that, I'm not sure."

"He _was_ a typical Jones man," Emma agreed with a smirk.

"Marissa. Hmmm..." Kai said, nuzzling the top of his daughter's head. "Another water name. I doubt that's a coincidence."

Meriel's brow knit in confusion. "So you're saying that you think we've got a mermaid in the family tree?"

"Possibly. Or another of the water realm."

"That's exactly how she put it," Finn acknowledged. "The Lady said I had something of the water realm within me. She also remarked on the circumstance of my birth."

"Because you were early?" Emma inquired. "I just figured you were impatient. You've been like that your whole life."

"Because he was born in the dirt." Killian remarked. "On dry land. I was born on the water, as was our daughter. My father as well - though I'm not sure about my mother. Finn was born in the dirt. Literally."

Kai's eyebrows lifted. "That would explain an _awful_ lot. How did I miss that story on family story night?"

"It wasn't exactly thrilling. I pushed him out in a field because he came three weeks early and surprised us both," Emma related. "Why does that explain a lot?"

"If you do have an ancestor of the water realm," He said to Finn, "The sea runs in your blood and is part of your very nature. For you to be born onto land directly goes against that. You'll have a hard time feeling truly at home on either. You crave the adventure of the sea, but you need the roots of your family and the land. Until you find something to anchor you, you'll feel pulled by both."

"Something?" Finn asked.

"Or maybe some_one_. For lack of a better word, a destiny."

Emma's eyes met Killian's across the table. She ran her hand through her hair. "It's time," She sighed.

Killian shifted Zale onto his shoulder a bit higher so that he could reach into the pocket of his waistcoat. He pulled out the compass, placing it on the table.

"Finn, my lad," He said, "We've got a story to tell you."


	6. The Northern Kingdom

They'd been at sea for three days, and Killian and Emma were enjoying the view from the bow as Finn took the wheel for awhile. By tomorrow morning, they'd be in the Northern Kingdom, and maybe they'd be able to find some answers. Emma had just laid her head on her husband's shoulder when a wave came out of nowhere, washing over the deck. They jumped back in surprise, only to find their son-in-law standing before them.

"I have news."

Killian shook the water off his arms. "I will never get used to you doing that."

"Sorry."

Emma wrung out her hair. "It's okay. Just tell us what you know."

Kai gave a nod. "You may want to pour some rum before you hear this. I know I could use it."

Killian gave Emma a curious look, raising one of his brows. "Let's take this up to the wheel deck, so Finn can hear it, too."

They proceeded across the deck and up the stairs to the wheel deck, where Finn stood scanning the horizon. He glanced up at the sails a moment, then adjusted his course a few notches to make the most of the wind. He gave his brother-in-law a nod.

"Good to see you, Kai."

"Speak for yourself," Killian objected. "You're not wearing wet leather."

"Kai's got some information for us," Emma announced.

"You know what's going on?" Finn asked. "What did you find out?"

Kai leaned back against the rail. "It's true. You have a direct connection to the water realm. Your great-grandmother was a Naiad. And not just any Naiad, either. She was tied to the river Yorn, flowing from the heart of the Northern Kingdom down into the sea."

"Another link to the Northern Kingdom," Emma said.

"A Naiad. I have Naiad blood," Finn remarked. "That confirms your theory, then."

"The river Yorn is one of the most powerful rivers in all the realms. The current can rip a ship apart in places," He said to Killian. "Your grandmother, being tied to it, would have had strong magic because of it."

"I'm magical?" Killian asked. "Fancy that. All these years I thought my powers were entirely self-developed." He gave his wife a pat on the backside as she rolled her eyes.

"I don't know how much of that would have trickled down," Kai responded. "Regardless, Finn has his own magic, just like his sister."

"I've only ever used it for broken bones and gashes after a tavern fight, mate," Finn answered. "I'd hardly call that magical."

Emma pulled him around by the shoulder. "You broke _bones_?"

"There's more," Kai warned. "This is where I get to be shocked. Your Naiad blood mixing with my Nereid blood created something rarely seen in the realms. Zale and Ondine are Gemini."

"Gemini!" Killian's eyebrows went up. "Water twins."

"What does that mean?" Emma asked.

"Gemini are known as the patron saints of sailors everywhere," Killian explained.

"Indeed," Kai agreed. "They have an incredible affinity for water, of course, but there's something undefinable about the relationship. They're closer than any twins you'll ever see. They're supposed to have a magic all their own together."

"Geez," Emma complained. "You can't swing a dead cat around here without hitting magic."

Killian made a face. "Why ever would you want to do _that_?"

She waved him away. "It's a figure of speech."

"It's foul."

"So, to recap," Emma went on, "Killian, Meriel and Finn have a Naiad in their bloodline and my grandchildren are the wonder twins."

"But at last we know why Finn is as he is," Killian pointed out. "And we're sailing to the one place where he might find some answers."

Finn stroked his beard thoughtfully, causing his mother to smirk because his father was also stroking his beard thoughtfully. Truth to tell, Killian looked more like Finn's older brother, he'd aged so damn well.

"Where do we even begin?" Finn asked.

"I wouldn't recommend the palace for answers," Killian supplied. "The King was obviously no friend to the mother of this child, whoever she was."

"Well, it's not as though we can knock on doors and just start asking questions." Finn pointed out.

"Why not?" His mother broke in. "We were tourists last time we were here. We'll be tourists again. Tourists are allowed to ask questions. Leave it to me."

###

They sailed into the royal harbor not long after sunrise, and were completely unprepared for the sight that awaited them. They had just rounded the cliff to turn into the fjord when Emma let out a gasp.

"Oh my God. What happened here?"

Killian, who was at the wheel, had no answer for her. "I cannot believe this is the same place."

"It's a bit bleak," Finn commented. "The way you'd described it, I was expecting something more picturesque."

"It was," Emma explained. "What a difference twenty-five years can make."

The city was nearly deserted. The ice surrounding the fjord and lining the harbor was a dull, dingy gray, and the castle walls, once gleaming, stood weathered and crumbling in places. The festive market was gone, with only a few shops open along the thoroughfare selling only the most basic of necessities. There was no royal guard to greet them at the dock, and it seemed even colder than they'd remembered, if that were possible.

They lowered the gangplank and made their way toward the castle.

"Are you sure we should bother stopping here?" Finn asked. "It doesn't even look lived in."

"Maybe it's not," Emma said, "But it's protocol. You're royalty, Finn, whether you like it or not."

"I like it fine. It's served me well on numerous occasions," He pointed out.

"Finn." His father's tone carried a warning. "We're here for a reason. Not to socialize."

"Are we sure he's ready for this?" Emma asked, turning to Killian.

"I'm ready." Finn bit out, exasperated. "I'm just trying to lighten the mood. The two of you are positively grim."

"You don't understand," Emma replied. "This place used to be beautiful. The market was bustling. The harbor was full of ships. Now it's a ghost town. It's just...spooky."

"Agreed," Killian said, coming up behind her. "So let's get this over with. Once we've dispensed with the formalities, we can try to find some villagers to talk to - if there are any left."

They made their way through the nearly-empty streets up to the castle, getting suspicious glances from the few people they passed. A lone, haggard-looking guard greeted them at the entrance, waving them through apathetically. Inside, things weren't much better than out. Cobwebs hung in the corners, dust abounded everywhere, tapestries were moth-eaten or hanging in tatters. They managed to find the King in one of the smaller chambers, sitting close to the fire with a bowl of gruel.

He looked up through narrowed eyes as they approached.

"Visitors? Why was I not informed?" He called out, apparently to no one.

"We should have sent word ahead, but the trip was arranged too quickly," Emma supplied. "I am Princess Emma." She extended her hand.

King Markus stood, placing his bowl of gruel on the chair. "Daughter of Snow White?"

"That's right. I visited once a couple of decades ago, but haven't gotten back since." She looked around. "What happened here? The market...the port?"

"All but gone, I'm afraid," He said tonelessly. "Once the fishing died out, the ships stopped coming. Then the fields went fallow. The whole town's moved on, for the most part If you've come to trade, we've nothing to offer you." He looked around. "Even the upkeep on the castle is impossible, especially with my depleted coffers."

"What happened to all the fish? And the land?" Killian asked.

"A curse. A fiendish curse, that's what," the King complained. "The kingdom has withered ever since. No hope now, unless you have a magical daughter of marriageable age." He raised a brow, looking hopeful.

"My sister is already wed," Finn volunteered. "Why do you need a magical bride?"

The king waved a hand absent-mindedly. "There was a prophecy. There must be magic upon the throne, or the kingdom will not prosper. Part of the curse."

"Well, unfortunately, we can't help you, mate," Killian said. "We've only come for a short visit."

"Is there a way to break the curse besides that? " Emma asked. "Have you looked into it?"

King Markus gave her an extremely condescending look. "The curse was leveled by Ursula herself, in retribution for a perceived slight. It's not a curse to be broken lightly. Not only does magic have to sit on the throne, it must be there sealed by true love." He lowered his voice, shifting his eyes left, then right, "Bitter old hag."

"Right then. We'll just be going. Not much to see here, anymore." Killian put a hand in the small of his wife's back, and with an inclination of his head toward the door, he let Finn know it was time to leave. Emma gave a gracious farewell, and the king didn't even bother seeing his guests to the door. They showed themselves out, making their way back toward the village.

Emma stopped at the dock, pointing across the fjord to the cliffs. "Oh, no. It's boarded up."

Killian followed her finger, a frown pulling at his lips. "That's a bloody shame. It had to be one of the nicest inns we've ever been to."

"Is that where you were staying?" Finn asked. "And the bush was below that? On the beach?"

"A little further down," His father said, pointing. "Just there. There are caves at the water line, set into the cliffs, and a short stretch of rocky beach. We were walking along it when the woman approached us with the babe."

"She was more like a girl," Emma corrected. "She couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen, so she's likely still around if the King didn't find her. The only question is: did she leave along with everyone else?"

"Where do you suggest we start asking?" Killian looked around. "It won't take long. There's almost no one here to ask."

"Did you get a name, at least?" Finn asked. "Even part of a name?"

Emma and Killian both shook their heads.

"It all happened so fast, Finn. One minute this overwrought teenager is shoving a baby into my hands and the next, she's flying through a portal that we didn't know was there."

"Maybe his ring will bring us some answers," Killian suggested. "We found it that morning, as well."

"You told me you'd found it in a tree or something," Finn remembered. "The portal bush?"

"It was tangled in the vine that was wrapped around the bush." Emma clarified. "It's possible the girl or the baby's mother lost it. It might be a clue." She gestured toward the one and only tavern they could see. "Let's start there. Flash that ring around and we'll see if anyone recognizes it."

They made their way inside, finding seats easily near the hearth as the place was all but deserted. The proprietor, a man who looked to be not much older than Finn hurried over.

"Visitors! What brings you here?"

"Stopover," Emma said, smiling.

"Yes," Killian continued. "We're on our way to the western isles, but remembered your charming village and thought we'd make a stop."

The man glanced around. "This place hasn't been charming since you three were probably children." He gave them an apologetic look. "I can only offer you soup and bread. I hope that'll do."

They gave him a nod, and he hurried off to fetch their food.

"Since we three were children?" Emma repeated incredulously. "Either he has a short memory or he's hoping for a big tip. Not that I didn't appreciate it."

"Neither one of you looks your age, you know," Finn remarked thoughtfully. He quirked a brow. "Aren't Naiads immortal?"

Killian considered that, raising a brow of his own. "I believe so. D'you think there's a chance we could meet her?"

Finn shrugged. "I think that may be the reason why you look so young. And as for mother, well, we all know her secret."

Emma flushed, suddenly finding something terribly interesting out the window.

"What?" Killian asked. "What secret?"

"All these years, you haven't caught her using magic on her face?" Finn said with a grin. "I caught her smoothing a wrinkle when I was ten, and she took a couple of spots off her hand once, too."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Oh, for Pete's sake. It was just a little...freshening up. I don't do anything drastic. I believe in aging gracefully." At the look on their faces, she qualified: "Just at a slower pace than nature intends, that's all."

Killian leaned across to kiss her. "Well, I'm not complaining, love. But you'd be just as beautiful withered and gray."

Now it was Finn's turn to look out the window. He loved his parents, but sometimes they could turn into teenagers right in front of his eyes, and that had a tendency to get embarrassing. He was saved from having to address them in a stern manner by the return of the tavern owner with their food. The man had a very large platter and he was having a difficult time balancing it, so Finn reached up to give him a hand.

A hand is exactly where the man looked. His eyes locked on Finn's ring and widened, just a fraction. Then he set the tray down carefully on the table. "Here you are," He said, hastily. "I'll be back to collect the empties in a bit." He hurried off, back to the kitchen, and he didn't look back.

Finn leaned in to speak, lowering his voice.

"He knows something. The owner. His eyes were all over my ring."

"Let's ask some questions, then," Emma suggested.

She signaled to the man that they needed further assistance, and he hurried back over, wiping his hands on his apron.

"Sorry to bother you," She said apologetically. "We were just hoping you could help us. When we were here last, we made a friend and I'd love to look her up. She'd be in her forties by now, I would imagine, brown hair...she used to work as a lady's maid, if I'm remembering correctly. Sound like anyone you know?"

The man shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. And if she was here, she's likely gone now. Not many of us left anymore. If I had the money to leave, I'd be gone as well."

"What a shame," Killian responded. "She was such a lovely girl. We'd hoped, after seeing what the kingdom had become, that she would be amenable to accompanying us home. We are in need of a new lady's maid and she seemed so very dedicated."

The man smiled, but it was frozen thing, not reaching his eyes. "What a shame I can't serve as lady's maid. I'd love a ticket out of here." He gave a slight bow, then turned and hurried off, back to the kitchen.

Emma's eyes followed him, and once he was gone, she raised her brows. "He does know something. But he's not talking."

"Once he closes up for the night, we could keep an eye on him," Hook suggested. "See if he goes out to meet anyone."

"Good idea," She agreed. "If he does know her, he'll be wanting to either warn her or at least let her know we made an offer."

"Shall we head back to the ship, or do you want to try and question a few more people?" Killian asked, polishing off the last of his soup. "We've got a bit of daylight left, we might as well use it."

"I have an idea," Finn threw out. "Why don't we return to the scene of the crime?"

"It's been twenty-five years, Finn. We don't even know if the bush is still there." Emma pointed out.

"We don't know that it isn't, either."

###

"I think the water level's gone down since we were here last," Emma commented, carefully stepping on the rocks avoid the giant pools of water and occasional waves washing up.

"I think you're right," Killian agreed. "There's a lot more beach here than there used to be." He stopped to put a hand over his eyes. "How much farther should we go?"

"I don't know," Emma answered. "I remember we could still see the cottage, so probably to about that bend over there," She pointed to a rocky outcropping. "If we go past that, the rocks would block the view."

Finn walked up behind his parents. "You're going about this all wrong. It's over there." He pointed up the beach with one hand, since his other was holding the compass.

Killian grinned. "Well, look at that, love. We raised the boy to use his brain. How insightful of us."

She gave him a smirk in return. "Get over here and help me over this puddle. I don't want to ruin my boots."

They moved up the beach, toward the cliff wall, following Finn, who was studying the compass as he walked. A few moments later, it came into view.

"It's still there," Emma marveled. "And it looks exactly the same. Same weird bush. Same crazy vine strangling it and pulling it down."

"Let's see if everything else is the same," Killian suggested, lifting the compass from Finn's hand. He held it firmly, holding it out in front of him. The needle didn't move. "Now you, love," He said to Emma. "Let's see if this really is about Finn, or if there was something else going on that day."

Emma grasped the compass, holding it out toward the bush. The needle remained still. "Nothing for me, either." She handed the compass over to Finn, and the moment his fingers closed around it, the needle spun, pointing directly at the archway under the bush.

Killian's eyes slid sideways, meeting the worried gaze of his wife head-on. "Well, that's an end to it, then. Whoever that child was, whatever the intrigue surrounding her, it's Finn's to sort out." He turned to his son, putting a hand on his shoulder. "And it's also yours to decide to walk away. You're a Jones man, and we make our own destinies."

Finn's jaw tightened. "I'm here. I'm doing this."

"Right now?" Emma broke in. "We were going to go question some people! Get some more information, maybe find some answers. You can't just go off half-cocked into another realm! We don't even know where you'll land!"

"Here." Killian held out his leather satchel. "There's enough gold in there to pay a king's ransom. I've added in food for a few days, an extra dagger, a small vial of fairy dust, and a few other necessities. You may land in a world where some of that could come in handy."

Emma turned and looked at him incredulously. "You were prepared for this? I thought we were all going to talk about it first."

Finn stepped forward, grasping his mother's hands. "I'm tired of feeling like I don't know where to be. For the first time, something feels _right_."

Emma's eyes filled with tears, spilling over. "But what if we never see you again, Finn?"

He pulled her close, hugging her tightly. "What's the one thing we always say about our family?" He pulled back, wiping her tears with his fingers. "We always find each other. I'll be back. I promise."

"And I'll hunt you down and tan your behind with a strap if you break that promise to your mother," Killian warned. He pulled his son in, hugging him fiercely. "Go find it, Finn. But remember who you are as you do. Don't lose yourself. Find what makes you better."

Finn swallowed hard, nodding. He pocketed the compass, and pulled the satchel over his head.

"One last thing," Killian said, pressing something into his hand. "You may need this to get back - I don't know that the portal goes both ways."

Finn opened his fingers. "A magic bean." He stuffed it into the pocket with the compass. "I'll guard it well."

"I love you," Emma said, hiccupping a little as she held back her tears.

"And I love the both of you," He replied. "It'll be all right. You've prepared me for anything."

He gave his parents one last crooked smile, then he stooped down and walked through the archway, and vanished.


	7. Meet Cute

He was completely unprepared for the smell that assaulted his nostrils.

Finn found himself face down in an alley, right next to a large container of what certainly smelled like garbage. He pushed himself to his knees, looking cautiously around him. Luckily, he appeared to be alone. He got to his feet and surveyed his surroundings.

The container holding the garbage was a...dumpster. That was the word. And he took a quick step back as a car passed the entrance to the alley, on the street. Finn heaved a sigh of relief. He was in his mother's realm.

Luckily for him, he wasn't a first-time visitor. Knowledge of the magic beans wasn't widespread - after all, they couldn't risk some of the other realms getting inundated or worse, finding ways to cross over. A select few had access, and his mother was one of them. She also made it very clear that her kids were going to visit some magical place known as Disneyworld when Finn was ten, so off they went, expecting to stay a week.

The visit was cut short to four days because Meriel got incredibly sick. Without Kai around she wasn't sleeping, or eating, and she was crying more often than not. Of course, no one knew what the problem was, so back they all went, and the trip was declared a complete disaster.

He made one more visit, in his eighteenth year, accompanied by his brother Henry. Henry called it a "graduation present," whatever that meant. They spent a month in all, some of it in London, some in New York City, then finally to Los Angeles. He enjoyed the beach at a place called Malibu, but Los Angeles got a little tiresome. People kept stopping him everywhere, asking him to sign slips of paper or napkins. One girl even asked him to put his signature on her breasts. For some reason, they were all sure he was a celebrity of some kind. He milked that for all it was worth, too.

Finn brushed off his breeches and headed toward the street. He'd dressed simply today - a black shirt and his favorite black leather pants, so he blended reasonably well. It was hot as blazes, though and he was already sweating. He'd need some cooler clothing, but first, he'd have to unload some of his gold. He needed to find a place to do that.

And then he'd stride right up to this girl, whoever she was, and whisk her away.

###

"So you think my handsome prince is going to show up someday and just whisk me away, is that it?" Bryony gave her young friend an indulgent smile as she pushed her long, red hair behind one ear and then loaded cups into the bus tub.

"Maybe he won't be a prince. Maybe he'll be a pirate or something," The girl sighed.

"Oh, he's a pirate now, is he?" Bryony chuckled. "How about he's a regular guy? Don't I qualify for one of those?"

"Nope," the girl said, shaking her head emphatically. "You aren't ordinary enough." The young girl slid off the stool at the counter, following Bryony as she walked through the swinging doors into the back. "I'm just saying - "

"Anna, I appreciate your faith in my feminine wiles," Bryony proclaimed, "But there aren't a lot of available princes. Or pirates."

Anna hopped up on the counter as Bryony loaded the cups into the industrial dishwasher, kicking her legs back and forth.

"How about a pirate prince? Get the best of both worlds?"

Bryony shook her head. "And here I thought I was the one with the wild imagination."

"Anna!" A voice called from the front. "Is your homework done?"

"Not yet." Anna called back.

"Then stop bugging Bryony and hit the books," The voice replied.

Anna made a face. "Mom says I gotta go."

"Well, if you're out front you can warn me when my pirate prince comes in," Bryony suggested, wagging her brows. "So I can brush my hair or something first."

"Can I read your story?" Anna begged. "The new one?"

"The dragon one? I haven't finished it. And you shouldn't have been reading over my shoulder," Bryony added.

"But you've got a woman slaying a dragon! How often does that happen?"

Bryony reached out, yanking Anna's ponytail fondly. "Okay. But homework first."

"I promise."

Bryony reached in her back pocket, pulling out the smal notebook she carried. She handed it over to Anna, who promptly stuffed in in her hoodie pocket and headed back out to the seating area of the coffee shop.

Business was starting to pick up, now that it was getting closer to performance time. Thursdays were cabaret night, and each week they changed themes. Tonight was jazz standards, which always drew a pretty good crowd. With it being a warm evening, they could leave the doors to the patio open, and the music usually pulled people in off the streets.

She'd been working at the coffee shop a little over seven months, having started shortly after her father died. Lydia, the owner, was a single Mom who lived next door to them, along with her daughter Anna. She'd needed help, and Bryony needed a job and so far, it was working out great. Anna was ten, and as precocious as they come. She wanted to write screenplays someday, and when she discovered that Bryony liked to write, she was fascinated. She had also made it her life's misson to find Bryony a soul mate.

_Just wait until you have a meet-cute, _she'd once said._ "You know how in a romantic comedy, the guy and girl always meet in some really cute or memorable way? That's a meet-cute. That's how you know he's the one._

Bryony wasn't holding her breath on that one. She'd had her share of dates, but no real boyfriends. She couldn't really afford to indulge a full-on relationship. Occasional companionship was the best she had to hope for, and it didn't seem to ever start with a meet-cute, that's for sure.

"Bry?" Lydia called from the front. "Can you come up? It's getting busy."

Bryony pushed through the doors to see the crowd lined up at the counter, and the next forty minutes passed in a frenetic cloud as they pumped out expressos and cappucinos and lattes and smoothies to the people who came to see the show. Just as she was putting the whipped cream on a large hot cocoa, a girl pushed her way up to the counter and interrupted her.

"Sorry to bug you," The girl apologized. "But I just need to know where the Cuban restaurant is - the famous one."

"Oh, you mean Chima," Bryony nodded. She pointed toward the left. "You just need to - "

She let out a squeal as she realized what she'd done. When she'd gestured toward the street, she'd still had the whipped cream in her hand, and she'd pressed down on the spout, sending a line of it right into the face of some poor guy who'd just made it to the counter.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry!" She reached under the counter, rummaging for a clean towel. When she raised back up, he had his hands over his face, wiping the worst of it off. She shoved the towel in his hands. "I am really, really sorry. Really."

"No harm done," His voice was muffled. "At least it wasn't coffee."

She let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah. Um...Sorry." She turned away to the sink behind her to wash the rest of the whipped cream off her arm.

Lydia had come up behind her to see what the commotion was all about. "Your order's on the house," She assured the man. "Sorry for the inconvenience."

"Can't I just take it with me?" He answered. "Having to climb up on a house _would_ be inconvenient."

"Sure." Lydia gave him an odd look, as if she didn't know whether to laugh or now. Obviously, it was a joke, but he was playing it straight. She took his drink order and then turned back to Bryony.

"It's dying down a little - why don't you grab a mop real quick? I think you got some on the floor out there and I don't need anyone slipping in it."

Bryony looked up from washing her hands. "Sure. Be right back." She headed into the back room.

"Perhaps you can be of assistance," The man said as Lydia turned around. "Are there any inns nearby?"

"You mean like a B&B?" She asked. "Not around here, but down by old city there are a few. The Loew's hotel is only a couple of blocks up, and it's pretty nice."

"Thank you," The man said, smiling. Lydia had to remind herself to breathe. Holy God, was this guy gorgeous. That dark hair, the black leather...that smolder...She shook her head to clear it.

"Enjoy," She said. "There are some empty seats over by the wall, if you're staying for the music."

He gave her a nod, and she watched him wind his way through the crowd, with female - and even a few male - heads turning to follow him as he went.

"Excuse me," Bryony said politely to the people near the counter, having just walked up with the mop. "This will only take a second." She cleaned up the mess on the floor and made her way back to the back to grab an empty bus tub and a rag to wipe the tables. She couldn't help but laugh a little to herself. What a doofus move. Whipped cream, right in the kisser. She was probably lucky she didn't blind the guy.

She pushed the door open to the seating area, where the music was already in full swing, and started clearing and cleaning, humming along with some of the songs as she went. It was a beautiful night, warm but not too warm, and the smell of the coffee and the music and the breeze were soothing her recently-frazzled nerves. She moved from table to table, clearing away empty cups and plates from the baked goods they sold, chatting here and there with a regular or two.

She'd just made her way over to the row along the wall when the man at the microphone called her name.

"Just a sec!" She answered back. "Let me get this stowed away." She tapped the man at the table next to her on the shoulder.

"I can get you a refill, if you want," She explained. "You'll just have to wait for me to sing first."

"I've had enough, thank you," He said, glancing up.

Bryony realized she was staring after entirely too long of a pause. The man at the microphone had called her name again, finally jarring her away from those green, green eyes. Eyes like a forest full of evergreens. Eyes that she knew entirely too well, having seen them countless times before.

"You'd better go," He suggested, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Uh...I'll just get that mug out of your way," She managed to stammer. She reached out for it just as he went to pick it up and give it to her, and their fingers met. She felt like she'd just been shocked by a current, and his eyes suddenly met hers, clearly startled. He looked back down again, and his hand flipped over, grasping her wrist.

"Where did you get that ring?" He asked quietly.

She pulled her hand from his and backed away, leaving the bus tub on his table.

"I - I have to go." She turned on her heel and fled, right out the front door and into the night.


	8. Alliance

He'd spent all day looking for the damned girl and now she'd run out on him. Once Finn had gotten his gold traded for currency he'd pulled out his compass and it had led him directly to the coffee house. Unfortunately, that was as good a direction as it gave and the crowd there was spilling out into the street. How was he supposed to locate her in this crush?

He'd finally made up his mind to just get some food and a coffee - something he'd relished on his last trip to this realm - and look for any female close to his age. He'd sort her out one way or another. And of all the females in the place, it had to be the one who'd hit him in the face with whipped cream.

Talk about destiny.

He'd grabbed his satchel, swinging it over his head, and followed her out the door, but had no luck finding her. She'd run from him like hell itself was on her heels, and after circling and working every cross-street for over an hour, he still hadn't found her. He finally gave it up for the night, stopping first to buy a few cooler shirts and then making his way to the recommended hotel.

Once he'd settled in, he opened up his satchel, rummaging through it to make room for his new shirts. He pulled out the packages of food - dried meat and fruit, mostly, and directly underneath it was a sight that made him smile.

"Father, you know me too well," He chuckled, lifting the flask out and taking a healthy swig. "Ah. That's better."

He kicked off his boots, crossed his legs and leaned back against the headboard on the bed, plotting his strategy. Tomorrow he'd return to the coffee shop. He may not know where she lived, but he knew where she worked. He'd start asking questions and if he had to, he'd camp there every day until she returned. He had a fix on her now, and from the way she reacted, she obviously knew something was up. At first he'd thought she was spellbound by his face - it happened often enough, but when he'd seen the ring...he'd only seen that rose pattern once before. It had to be her.

That meant there was a mystery here - either someone had come with her, or she'd known somehow to expect him. She looked as though she'd seen a ghost when she looked at him.

It was just a bloody nuisance that she took off on him. He rolled his eyes. She was probably some wilting hothouse flower of a girl, vapid and silly and given to fits of temper. Gads. And he had to get her back through a portal, help her save a kingdom and hopefully be home in time for supper, this time next week.

He took another pull of rum. She could run, but she couldn't hide forever. And she'd better not hide forever.

He had a life to get on with, and she was keeping him from it.

###

Bryony closed the door behind her, leaning against it and panting hard.

Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

It was here. The day was here and he'd shown up and now...

Holy shit.

_Calm down,_ she told herself. _Just calm the hell down, already. _

Had he followed her? She didn't look back to see, but it was doubtful. He probably had no idea why she'd freaked like she had. And its not like she could just say "Oh, sorry, I've been dreaming about you my whole life. Literally."

She went to run a hand through her hair, and paused a moment, holding the hand aloft in front of her face. Why had he asked about her ring, of all things? It must've been some kind of cosmic sign or something - like she even needed one to recognize him.

She pushed off the door, realizing more fully what she'd just done to poor Lydia, and pulled her cellphone out of her pocket. She called the shop, apologizing profusely and claiming that she'd gotten suddenly, violently ill. Lydia was concerned, but Bryony reassured her it was most likely due to the food she'd gotten from a street vendor earlier in the day, and she'd be back to work tomorrow. Hopefully, he'd be nowhere within a hundred miles of there.

She pulled out one of her journals, and began to write, a rambling story that was flowing through her mind about a bandit woman and trolls on a bridge. She smiled softly to herself. Anna would love this one. Anything with a strong female character and fairytale creatures, and she was hooked. Bryony closed her eyes, picturing the story as it had come to her. She'd been jogging at Penn's landing, and stopped for a water break. It was early, and the sunlight was playing off the water in random patterns, mesmerizing her. She slipped away, but only for a few moments. She snapped herself out of it before anyone really noticed and continued her run, but the story stayed with her.

The picture in her head was so clear...she closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She could practically smell the trolls. But there was more. A frown creased her brow. Something was missing. A man. A prince? Yes, a prince. God, wouldn't Anna love that. A story with a prince. She added another three pages to the story, detailing the sights and the latent sounds and the pervading scents of the scene, the unlikely comraderie of the characters, with her hand moving more and more slowly across the page and her eyes beginning to drift shut.

Eventually, she dreamed.

_His hands were on her skin, moving across the soft plane of her belly, grazing her with his fingertips as his lips settled in the crook of her neck. She moved restlessly, trying to turn toward him but he held her there, his fingers trailing downward now. He traced circles on her thighs, urging them to part. She slid her hands over his chest and her back arched in anticipation of his touch._

_She heard his indrawn breath and opened her eyes, but it was too late to help him. Too late to save him. The vine was firmly around his neck, causing his sightless eyes to bulge and his tongue to protrude even though he wasn't moving anymore. She screamed, trying to push his weight from her, but his hand and arm had become a vine, holding her down as she struggled to get free._

She sat up, bathed in sweat, panting from her dream-like exertions. It was a long time before she slept again.

###

Finn had made his way to the coffee shop first thing in the morning, finding the crowd greatly reduced with it being a Saturday morning. He ordered a breakfast sandwich and a large coffee, pushing what he hoped was enough money across the counter at the proprietor. She gave him a friendly smile, and then her eyes widened.

"Whipped cream guy!" She exclaimed. "You came back!"

Gads. What a thing to be known for. He pasted on a smile. "Yes, I did. You've got great coffee."

"Best in Philly," The owner agreed. "Thanks for coming back. If you want to take a seat, I'll run that sandwich out to you when it's ready."

"Thank you." He picked up his coffee, taking an appreciative slurp. Why had no one ever thought to bring back coffee beans? He'd have to see to that this visit. Anton would certainly have a bumper crop going in no time. His grandfather would be thrilled to have a cup of coffee again.

He glanced around the room to be sure he hadn't missed her before choosing his seat - a table in the corner facing the door. He wanted to know the minute she walked in. He was just opening up a newspaper when a young girl approached him, setting his breakfast down in front of him.

"Here you go."

"Thank you." He gave her a nod, looking up from his paper at the doorway.

The girl stood there a moment longer, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

"She's not in yet." She said.

He glanced up at her. "Who?"

"Bryony. That's who you came back to see, right?" She lowered her voice. "I saw you try to hold her hand last night."

Finn folded the paper, setting it down in front of him. "That's her name? Bryony?"

"Yeah. It's unique. Just like her. But you know that." The girl smiled, raising her brows up and down. Finn liked her immediately.

"Don't suppose you want to tell me about her, do you?"

The girl looked over her shoulder at the counter, then back again. "I probably shouldn't. You're a stranger."

"Yes," Finn agreed. "But I can tell you a secret, if you'd like."

She nodded, eyes shining with suppressed excitement.

He leaned in, conspiratorially. "I'm the one she's supposed to meet."

Signed. Sealed. Delivered. The girl was on his side.

"I knew it!" She exclaimed.

Finn glanced again at the door.

"Don't worry," She reassured. "You won't miss her. She doesn't come in 'till five today." She looked over her shoulder at the counter. "I'd better get back there. But I'll come talk to you again in a few minutes, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that," Finn replied, giving her his most devastating grin. She looked as though she might swoon.

"It's been great meeting you, Mr. - ?"

"Jones. Finn Jones."

"Finn," She breathed. "It's perfect. A perfect, perfect name." She stared off, starry-eyed for a moment, then remembered her manners. "I'm Anna," She said. "I'm Bryony's best friend."

He shook her outstretched hand, completely enchanted with her. She was bloody adorable.

"Do you believe in destiny, Mr. Jones?"

His eyes widened just a bit. Clearly, this was one perceptive girl.

"Why do you think I'm here?" He asked, raising his brows. "And please, call me Finn. We're friends now, aren't we?"

"Yes. Yes, we are." She nodded her head vigorously.

"So, be a good friend, and introduce me to your best mate, will you?"

Anna crossed her arms, smiling widely.

"It's the least I can do for a friend."


	9. Crosspurposes

Emma took in a deep, shaky breath, still finding it hard to believe that Finn was gone. She turned slowly away from the bush, the tears in her eyes nearly blinding her. Killian's hand came to rest on her shoulder, but she shook it off.

"Don't."

Killian let out a sigh. "Come on, love. Don't be like that."

She held up a hand, giving him a warning glare.

"Look, I know you're upset - "

"Upset?" She shouted incredulously. "Oh, I'm a little more than _upset_. How long have the two of you been plotting this behind my back?"

He gave her a grim look. "We weren't. Not actively, anyway. I had a feeling it would end up like this when we saw the state of the kingdom. There's no one here with the answers he needs anymore."

"You don't know that."

Killian ran a hand through his hair, then gestured across the fjord to the village. "Look around you, love. What are the odds?"

"We just rushed in here and then rushed him through a portal to God knows where without any prep, without any information...he has no idea what he's up against."

He reached out to pull her into him. "He'll come back, Emma. He'll find his way. You have to let go, love."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "He's our _child_."

"He's a _man_."

Emma turned on her heel, and headed down the beach.

Killian turned and followed her. "Emma! Emma, wait!"

She didn't wait. She just kept on walking. He fell into step beside her. "I know you're angry, love, but once we get back home - "

"Home? I'm not going home."

He looked at her, shocked. "What?"

"I'm staying right here until I find some answers. When he gets back, he's going to need them, especially if he and this portal-jumping baby have a curse to break. You can either stay and help me or sail home. I don't care either way right now."

His eyes softened. "You don't mean that."

"You know what? I think I do. I'm that angry."

His face clouded over. "So you're going to punish me, is that it? Because I wouldn't let you strangle him in your apron strings?"

"Strangle him! By wanting him safe? And knowing what he's facing?" She threw up her hands. "So...what? I'm a terrible mother for wanting that?"

"I didn't say that - "

"It's a wonder he survived to adulthood." She sneered, striding off down the beach again. She didn't get far. Killian's hand shot out, grabbing her by the elbow and spinning her around.

"Oh no - you're going to stay and we're going to have this out. He was ready to go, Emma. You heard it from his own lips."

"What does he know about anything?" She ranted. "He's reckless. He's impulsive. His sense of responsibility is _seriously_ lacking. Tell me all that isn't true!"

"Oh, it's true enough," Killian agreed. "And it's still his life to live."

"He thinks he's on some...grand adventure! It doesn't even occur to him that he could be killed, or seriously hurt, or caught up in some mess that could go on for years. Look how long it took us to find some peace in our lives - and we still get giant water Gods and flying babies coming in to threaten it all."

"You can't pick and choose his future, love," He said with a good deal of exasperation. "And since when did we ever know what we were getting into?"

"This is different!"

"Why? Because he's too much like me?"

"Yes!"

The word hung between them, seeming somehow louder in the stillness of the air. Emma opened her mouth, then closed it again, thinking better of what she was going to say. Killian looked away, arms rigid, jaw ticking.

"I'm going back to that village," Emma informed him. "And I'm going to ask questions. I'm going to start with that tavern owner and I'm going to work my way door-to-door until I get some answers. When Finn gets back, he's going to need support. If I can't be with him, then I can pave the way for when he returns. You can stay or you can go. Your choice."

She strode off down the beach.

He didn't follow.


	10. Revelations

"Okay, I only have a few minutes while my Mom's at the store," Anna said, sliding into the chair across from Finn. "And I have to get up if a customer comes."

"Understood," Finn reassured her. "What can you tell me?"

"I can't tell you where she lives or anything," Anna warned. "Or give you her phone number."

"You don't have to. I know where she works." He pointed out.

"And I'm going to tell Bryony you're here, so don't think about following her home or something."

"Your concern for your friend is admirable. I only want to meet her and speak with her, you have my word." He held a hand to his heart, looking earnest.

"Okay, so she's twenty-five, and she hasn't got a boyfriend right now. And she likes to sing and she's a really good writer."

"How long has she been here - in this city?" He clarified.

"Since I've known her, and I think her whole life."

"What are her parents like?"

"Dead. Her mom died a long time ago, and her Dad died a few months back. Her dad was a college professor, and I'm not sure what her mom was."

"I see." Finn stroked his beard, thinking. "Anything else?"

Anna shrugged. "Just that I've never seen her react to a guy like she did with you. She gets plenty of guys asking her out, but she doesn't stay with them long. I think she's..." Anna leaned in, whispering, "_Emotionally guarded._"

"You don't say."

"Seriously. You have _no_ idea." She leaned back in her chair, smiling. "You rattled her. And she's _never_ rattled. So...what's your game plan?"

He turned his coffee cup in his hands. "It's simple enough. You introduce us, and she and I have a conversation."

Anna made a face. "That's boring."

"Sorry, love," Finn apologized. "Can't do much more without scaring her off. I suppose I'll just have to win her over with my charm."

"You need a romantic gesture," Anna said, emphatically. "Go buy her some flowers or something. She may not show it to everyone, but she's a romantic at heart." She looked out the cafe window, and quickly got to her feet. "I gotta go. But seriously, get flowers. And come back at five."

"Get flowers, back at five. Got it." He gave her a nod.

"And in the meantime, read through this." She reached in her back pocket, pulling out a small notebook. "This is just some of her writing. She's got a couple of stories in here."

He took the small, spiral-bound notebook from her. "I'll look it over."

"Once you read them, you'll see. She's romantic. She just doesn't show it so good." She gave him a smile and flounced off to her spot behind the counter, just as her mother came through the door. Finn gave a chuckle and reached for his coffee again. He opened up the notebook, and began to read.

###

The man was stuffing a satchel full of provisions, taking care to lock up any remaining supplies and pull the shutters and draperies on the windows. He was just about to snuff the candle out when a voice startled him badly.

"Going somewhere?"

He swallowed hard, eyeing the open door behind her. "I'm terribly sorry," He said with a forced smile. "But I'm closing until further notice."

Emma walked into the tavern a little further, glancing around. "Business that bad?"

He eyed her warily. "Yes. It always is." He gave an exaggerated shrug. "There's only so long you can bleed out a stone, as they say."

"I thought you couldn't afford to leave." Emma raised her brows.

"I - I can't. I'm just taking a short holiday. Getting away for a few days. That's all."

"Hmmm."

Emma leaned back against a nearby table. "Well, I can help your profit for the day. I'm looking for some information. I'm even willing to pay for it. And as the owner of the only tavern in town, odds are you know something I want to hear."

"Oh, I doubt that," He said nervously, eyeing the door once again. "I mind my own business. Always have."

She crossed her arms, tilting her head to one side as she studied him. "Who owned the bar before you?"

He looked away. "It was a family business and the family left a long time ago. They left the place boarded up, but entrusted me with the key, in case they ever returned. They never did, and I needed a way to feed myself, so I keep it for them."

Emma stepped forward. "My name is Emma."

"Brandt." He answered, with a slight bow of his head. "Why did you come here, Emma?"

"My husband and I visited here once, and wanted to return to see it again. The kingdom was so beautiful. And we also found something that we felt should be returned to the rightful owner. A ring."

Brandt's eyes widened slightly. "A ring?"

"The one my son was wearing. You noticed it."

Brandt looked taken aback. "He's your _son_?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "My mother is the same age as me. Nothing should surprise you in the Enchanted Forest."

He immediately perked up. "You're from the Enchanted Forest?"

"That's right," Emma affirmed. "I'm sort of a princess."

Realization dawned on him immediately. "You're Princess Emma. Daughter of Snow White."

"Yes."

He smiled widely.

"I've been wanting to meet you for years." He beamed. "We're cousins."

###

Bryony walked into the coffee shop at 4:50, and exactly eleven seconds later, she walked right back out. It didn't do her any good. He caught up with her as she rounded the corner, catching her by the elbow.

"Wait! Bryony, please." He let go of her arm and she stood tensely looking at him.

"How do you know my name?"

"Your friend. Anna."

She rolled her eyes. "Anna. Of course." She shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. "What do you want?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I only want to speak with you. I would have done so last night, but you ran from me." He raised his brows in a thoroughly chastising look.

"Yeah...about that..."

"Listen," He began, "I was a good sport about you hitting me in the face with - "

"Whipped cream guy! Oh my God!"

He threw up his hands in exasperation. "Will everyone stop calling me that? I'd like to choose my own monikers, thank you." He took a deep breath, pasting on a placid, easygoing smile. "Now. Why did you run from me?"

Bryony's mind spun frantically. What to tell him? She couldn't very well say: _Well, the thing is, I've dreamed about you for practically my entire life. That I feel like I know you already. That I was expecting green eyes, but not that green. Dammit._

She forced her shoulders back. "I was embarrassed. Because of our little...incident."

"You ran like that because of a little whipped cream?" He asked incredulously.

Bryony shrugged. "I'm shy."

His eyes narrowed. "You're lying. And I can tell."

"I have to go to work," She said. "Goodbye Finn."

She stalked off back to the cafe, and Finn watched her go with his arms crossed and his jaw set. Something wasn't adding up with the girl. And she'd just let herself slip.

Because he hadn't told her his name.

He followed her, taking a seat at an empty table again in sight of the door. The owner gave him a friendly wave and he responded with a smile and a nod. Bryony was behind the counter, trying her hardest to act like he wasn't there. She obviously had plans to ignore him all night. It would have amused him normally, but he was on a schedule and this overly-dramatic girl was setting him back.

He studied her carefully, scanning for clues.

She was passably pretty enough, he supposed. Thick red hair, big blue eyes, and legs that would turn many a man's head, if it weren't for her manner. She seemed not just immune to his charm, but positively determined to repel him in spite of it - a circumstance he'd never really experienced before. She was hiding something, he was more than sure of it, and he needed to get to the bottom of it before he took her back to the Northern Kingdom.

Once he'd straightened all that out, his destiny would be fulfilled, he'd feel more centered, and then it was back to the Jolly Roger and the Enchanted Forest. Back to drinks and carousing with friends, dinner with his family, playing with his niece and nephew, sailing with the wind at his back, stormy seas and far-off lands. Back to the life he'd had, but with his destiny fulfilled.

He rubbed his jaw. But how to reach the girl? He'd read her stories - the first about a woman who slayed a dragon and the second about a gemstone that could destroy a whole town. They were quite good, really. Anna was right - she had a gift with words - but he didn't see anything helpful within the words themselves. He still had no idea what she was about.

"No luck, huh?"

Finn looked up at Anna, who was holding out her hand for his coffee cup. "I can refill that for you," She said. "But if you're going to be here all night, you'd better stop after this one or you'll be awake until tomorrow."

"Thank you," He said, handing her the cup. He glanced across at Bryony again, or more accurately at her back, since she refused to turn and risk actually looking at him.

"Did you read the stories?" She asked.

"I did. And you're right. She's good."

"She just finished a new one today. It's about a Bandit girl and a Prince and they're fighting trolls - only the bandit girl, see, she's secretly a princess in hiding," She beamed. "It's wonderful."

"She and the Prince are fighting trolls?" He asked, his eyes growing wider. "May I read it?"

"Sure." She pulled another notebook out of her apron pocket, handing it over. "Don't tell her I showed you. She'd be embarrassed."

"Is she angry with you? For talking to me?" He clarified.

Anna grinned. "Yep. No biggee. She'll thank me one day." And with that, she spun around and headed back to the counter.

Finn opened the notebook, scanning it in disbelief. He almost didn't have to read it. He knew that story as well as she did - having heard it at family story night dozens of times growing up. And now the other stories fell into place. A woman fighting a dragon - his mother. A gemstone destroying a town - was that when his Mother and Regina saved Storybrooke? The stories weren't detailed enough to have names and settings spelled out - they were written more like allegories, but there was no mistaking the plot points.

He was angry now, feeling almost violated as he saw his family's lives playing out in her finely controlled script upon the paper. He shoved the notebook in his satchel, and stalked out the door.

Who the hell was she? And how did she know so much about his family?

Perhaps he was looking at her all wrong. Maybe he wasn't sent here to save her. Maybe he was sent here to save his family.

_From_ her.

He needed some time to think.

And tonight, he was going to bloody well get some answers.


	11. Answers

"Cousins? How do you think we're cousins?" Emma asked. "I don't even know you."

Brandt gave her a smile. "Somewhat distant cousins, to be sure, Princess Emma - "

"Please." She waved him off with her hand. "It's just Emma. I never did go for the Princess thing."

"Why don't you have a seat, Emma. This will take some explaining." He pulled out a chair for her. "Are you hungry? I'm afraid it'll have to be soup again."

"That will do fine," Emma replied. "Whatever you have."

He busied himself in the kitchen a few moments, then set a large pot on the hearth, lighting the fire beneath it. "This will take only a short while. In the meantime, I can regale you with my sad tale." He gave her a half-smile, then took a chair for himself, settling his elbows on the table.

"Your mother is Snow White, and her mother was Princess Eva, formerly of the Northern Kingdom. She married King Leopold and moved to the Enchanted Forest, and upon her father's death, a few years later, her brother took the throne. He was killed a few years after his coronation in an accident. The throne should have eventually gone to his son, who was two at the time of his father's death. Markus's father, being a distant relation, was appointed regent, and unfortunately, he got a little too used to running the country. He built up an army that was loyal to him, and when the rightful king suddenly disappeared at the age of seven, Markus's father took over, proclaiming himself king. When he passed, Markus took the throne and no one has ever heard of the missing prince since."

"That boy was my grandfather," Brandt explained. "A Baron who was loyal to the former king saw what Markus's intentions were and secreted the boy away. When my grandfather was old enough, he returned to the kingdom, under an assumed identity - still nobility, but a distant relation of the Baron's. He was hoping to find a way to regain the kingdom, but Markus's hold was too strong. My father was unable to rally any support, either. At the time, the kingdom was extremely prosperous under Markus's rule and no one was interested in challenging that. He died a broken man who drank himself to death.

"My family was destitute, but still of noble birth, but I was just old enough to become a squire and my sister was brought into court to serve as ladies' maid to Markus's new bride - a commoner, strangely enough, who had no love for Markus. Her heart belonged to one of his knights, and when she found herself expecting her lover's child, they tried to flee the kingdom together. My sister went with them."

Emma's eyes widened. "Your sister - how old was she?"

"She was thirteen, but tall for her age. And yes, you were the one she saw that day," He acknowledged. "The day at the cliffs."

"She ran away from us," Emma stated. "We looked for her, but we weren't able to find her or help her. Did Markus get her?"

"No. She hid in the caves. Sir Tristan had managed to get my Mother and I away before they ran. My sister joined us and we moved on to abandoned farm on the edge of the kingdom. She still lives there. I made my way back here eight years ago, and took over the tavern."

"She told you about us? About that day?" Emma asked.

"Yes. In my younger days, I'd even dreamed of finding the two of you and asking for your help, but whatever has cursed this place is too powerful. This is dark magic here, and not even Markus can break its hold. I fear the Northern Kingdom is lost forever."

"Well, cousin," Emma said, reaching across to take his hand. "If there's one thing that runs in our family...it's hope."

###

They finished their meal, and Brandt insisted on learning everything there was to know about her side of the family. He'd heard a few stories, of course, carried by bards and minstrels mostly, and he was fascinated by it all. The Northern Kingdom had been untouched by the curse, but news of the mystery surrounding it had traveled far and wide.

Emma filled him in on most of it, and gave a brief rundown of what had happened in the time since.

"And you say you have a daughter, Emma?" He asked hopefully.

"I do. And yes, she's beautiful. But she's married," She supplied apologetically. "I have grandchildren, even."

"I would never have believed that if you weren't admitting to it."

"You know, Brandt, you're growing on me." She gave him a smile. "I have another grown son, King Henry of Camelot. And you met my son, Finn. He's a bit of a...free spirit." She swallowed hard, to get around the lump in her throat.

"You love your children very much," Brandt said, sympathetically.

"Yes, I do. And that's probably why I've thought so much about this place and that day on the beach, near the cliffs." She admitted. "What ever happened to the baby? Do you know?"

"Never seen again, along with her parents," Brandt answered.

"What kind of parent just abandons a newborn out in the elements like that?" Emma wondered.

"They were most likely dead," Brandt surmised. "Killed by Markus's soldiers. He must've tossed their bodies in the sea."

"Why was he so dead-set on taking that baby? If it wasn't even his?"

"Because he'd promised the babe to someone else," Came a voice from the doorway.

Emma and Brandt turned in surprise as Killian closed the door behind him, then made his way across the room to join them. He pulled out a chair next to Emma, and sat down.

"I assume you've passed on some necessary information," He said to Brandt. "I've gathered a bit myself. Perhaps we can put it all together and get some answers."

Brandt nodded, and Emma gestured across the table.

"Killian, this is Brandt. He's a cousin, believe it or not."

Killian's eyebrows raised. "Your family tree never ceases to surprise." He looked over at Brandt. "Is there anymore soup? All the king had was gruel and I couldn't work up the appetite."

"You were with King Markus?" Emma asked, eyeing her husband warily. He didn't seem angry, but he wasn't exactly exuding affection, either.

"You were talking to the common folk. I decided to start at the top and work my way down." He explained.

"I have more soup," Brandt offered, stepping over to the hearth to dole out a portion. He brought it back to the table, setting it down in front of Killian.

"That's better," Killian said, shoveling a spoonful into his mouth.

"So did you learn anything from Markus?" Emma probed. "How much was he willing to tell you?"

"Quite a lot, actually. The man is bitter in the extreme, and that usually leads to ranting and raging, in my experience. So I appeared again at the castle, cozied up to the old despot, and offered him a bottle of my finest rum as a gesture of goodwill. He hadn't seen anything that good in a long, long time, and soon enough, he was spilling his guts."

"Rum." Emma intoned. "Always a solid strategy."

"Say what you like," He shrugged. "It works more often than not."

"What is there to know?" Brandt asked. "The kingdom's been cursed and obviously, Markus doesn't know how to break it."

"Oh, but he does," Killian supplied. "He's just not able to." He ate a few more bites of soup, then continued. "A year or so before we showed up for our visit, Markus made a deal with Ursula."

"Ursula? The sea witch? _That_ Ursula?" Emma clarified.

"Indeed. You see, there was something that Ursula wanted, and Markus was a means to that end. The kingdom had been prosperous only because of some of the shadier alliances and trade agreements that Markus had put into place. Many of those started going afoul, and the kingdom was teetering on the brink of a downward spiral. Around that time, there was a prophecy made by a famous seer that said the kingdom will prosper again only when magic sits upon the throne. Ursula knew of the prophecy, and found Markus a bride - a commoner with the gift of prophecy herself, and magic in her bloodline. She delivered the girl to Markus, and in turn, Markus promised the girl's firstborn child to Ursula."

"Why would a king give up his own heir to the throne?" Emma asked. "That makes no sense."

"His bride was young, and Markus reasoned that she'd give him more children," Killian said. "He didn't count on her running away with her lover instead."

"Or having her lover's baby." Emma added.

"But it was still her baby," Killian went on, "And if Markus could find the child, he'd still be honoring his deal with Ursula. Unfortunately, even though his knights were able to kill the girl's lover, they never found the mother or the child. Ursula was enraged, and in return, she cursed the sea around this place, and the fish fled. At the same time, the soil went bad and almost nothing was able to grow."

"That's true," Brandt offered. "My sister's farm lies at the edge of the kingdom, with part of the land actually on the other side of the border. She can grow crops only in that part of the land. What few people are left have survived by bringing soil in from other places, but that's costly and hard to do. Mostly, we live on game, and fruit trees. If it grows wild, it still grows. If you try to plant, it will never bloom."

"How could Ursula curse the land?" Emma asked. "She a sea witch."

"No one knows," Killian answered. "Least of all Markus. But now we know there are not one, but two curses on the kingdom. One on the land, one on the sea."

Brandt leaned back in his chair, letting out a long breath. "Then I was right. There is nothing left here. The kingdom is lost."

"No, it's not." Emma shook her head. "I refuse to believe that, Brandt. You're the rightful King, and any curse can be broken. What about that prophecy? If that were fulfilled, that could break the curse."

"I have as much right to the throne by blood as your children, Emma," He answered her. "And none of us is magic."

Emma's green eyes met her husband's entirely-too-knowing blue ones. Together, they said the same name.

"Finn."


	12. Misfits

Bryony stood outside the door to her townhouse, having just said her goodbyes to Anna and Lydia. She glanced cautiously up and down the street, but there was no sign of Finn. Good. She must've scared him off. She gave a great sigh of relief, and opened her front door.

She dropped her keys on the coffee table and made her way into her laundry room, peeling her shirt and pants off. Someone had walked right into her tonight as she was hauling a loaded bus tub, and it drenched her in assorted dregs and muck and she'd been wearing it for two hours. Yuck. She grabbed a few more items from the laundry basket to make a full load, then added soap and set the washer to "start".

As she pulled her hair tie out, she ran her fingers through her hair, shaking it out and rolling her shoulders. She hadn't realized how tense she'd been. A nice, hot bath would take care of that, then some writing, and then a good night's sleep.

She padded up the stairs, reaching behind her to find the clasp of her bra as she went. It wasn't until she stepped through the doorway and into her bedroom that she realized she wasn't alone. She let out a shriek, throwing her hands up in front of her.

Finn was unfazed, reclining back against the headboard of her bed, with a dozen of her journals scattered all around him and his booted feet crossed at the ankles on top of her coverlet.

"You're home." He didn't smile, and Bryony found herself slowly backing toward the doorway. He sat up, putting his feet on the floor. "Don't." He warned. "You won't make it."

She decided to take her chances. And he was right, she didn't make it.

What he didn't count on, however, was how fast she'd react. He'd just put his hand down on her shoulder as she reached the top of the stairs, and a split-second later, Finn was flat on his back in the hallway, looking up at her from the floor.

He lay stunned a moment before he realized she was halfway down the stairs already, and then he sprang back into action. He'd just made the bottom of the staircase when she whirled on him, taking his legs out from under him with a sweeping kick and when he scrambled to his feet and tried to grab her, she pulled his arm forward and neatly flipped him on his back again. This time she came down on top of him, putting the heel of her hand to a place just under his adam's apple.

"Move an inch and I'll crush your windpipe," She warned. "And then while you're passing out, I'll pull back and bring my full weight on my knee into your crotch. Got it?"

He stared at her as if she were a madwoman. "I - "

She pushed her hand into his throat and he jerked. "All right!" He said, coughing. "Let me up."

"Not a chance," She snapped. "You're going to tell me what you're doing here and then you're going to the police station."

Finn dropped his head back, thunking it on the floor. He lowered his arms slowly. "I can see I've alarmed you," He said, by way of apology.

"Alarmed me? You broke into my house! You saw me almost naked -"

He raised his head, quirking a brow. "Well, that's hardly my fault, is it, love? I'd have let you get dressed before you beat me up." His eyes moved over her appreciatively, taking in her unclasped-and-barely-covering-her bra and her bikini underwear. "Then again, maybe this worked out for the best."

Bryony flushed hot red, realizing she was sitting on him, half-naked, with her legs spread. She scrambled off him, pulling her bra against her breasts and reaching behind herself to frantically fasten it. Finn got to his feet slowly.

"What are you doing here? " She fumed. "I told you to leave me alone."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"If you touch me again - " She warned.

Finn stepped back, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "I'll stay over here."

"Why are you stalking me?"

Finn rubbed his throat where she'd pushed in on it. "How the hell did you do that, anyway?"

"I'm a second-degree black belt in karate, and I was the mid-Atlantic region Junior Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu Champion. Two years in a row."

"I have no idea what you just said."

Bryony tapped her foot impatiently. "You have exactly thirty seconds to tell me why you're here before I knock your ass out and call the cops."

Finn gave her an unfriendly look. "Bloody hell," He grumbled. "I'm here because I'm your damned destiny."

She looked completely shocked. "What?" She whispered.

"Your destiny. Or at least, I'm meant to get you home in order to fulfill my own destiny." He moved so quickly, she didn't have a second to take a stance. He took advantage of her momentary surprise and was behind her with a dagger at her throat in a heartbeat. "But before I do any of that," He went on, "You're going to tell me why you're after my family."

She reached an arm up and across her body, setting her legs, twisted his wrist until the dagger dropped and flipped him on his ass again. This time, she came down on him with the dagger at his throat.

"Your family? I don't _know_ your family. And I'm not going anywhere with you."

He bucked up, unseating her, and rolled her off him, throwing his body down on hers and pinning her arms over her head even as his legs came down over hers, keeping her from finding any leverage. He lowered his chest, bringing his full weight down on her.

She struggled, but he had her totally immobilized. She ought to be terrified, but she wasn't. Angry, maybe. The stupid bastard. Why couldn't he leave well enough alone. She gave it up, going limp beneath him.

"Are we done, love? You feel delightful, but alas, I have an agenda and you're going to help me complete it. Right after I get my answers."

"Let me up."

"No."

She bucked against him and he held her fast. It was no use. If she couldn't move, she couldn't move to take him out. She relaxed in defeat, but refused to speak, turning her head to the side and studiously ignoring him.

Which was really, really useless.

As much as she hated to admit it to herself, this was Finn. This was finally Finn, and even though he'd only existed in her dreams before, her traitorous body remembered every inch of him. Every curve, every hollow, every bend and flex of muscle in his arms and back, the play of his fingers on her skin, the line of his hip and the feel of his stomach and chest against hers. He'd made love to her countless, aching times and sometimes, when she woke, she was still feeling the aftershocks of it. This was Finn, and this was torture.

"Now then," He said, softly. "Shall we have our chat?"

She still didn't answer him.

"I can lay like this all night, love. The idea has definite appeal."

She turned her face back to his, and he looked at her - really looked at her, up close and with his body tight to hers. Good God, she was beautiful. He'd thought her pretty before, but who'd have guessed she had that build under the shapeless clothing she wore? And that hair, spilling everywhere, spread around her like a sunset on the horizon. Her eyes were the final blow. They were deep, dark blue - fathomless, like the sea after a storm. His gaze moved down to her parted lips and suddenly, all he wanted to do was kiss her.

He brought his mouth down gently on hers and she made a small sound that wasn't quite a protest. He had her hands trapped in his grip and felt the tension go out of her arms even as her body relaxed fully against him. His fingers slid between hers, twining them together as he moved to deepen the kiss.

Bryony suddenly tore her mouth away, bucking hard and succeeding in dislodging him, enough to get her legs bent and under her. In a split-second, she was on her feet and in her stance, ready to take him down again.

"Calm down," He said, placatingly. "It was just a kiss."

She swiped her mouth with the back of her arm, and somehow, that motion made him angry.

"Don't come near me." She warned. "I can take you out and you know I can."

Finn stood up, dusting off his pants. "So now what, my lovely? We both know I can best you as easily as you can best me. It's called a stalemate." He crossed his arms, staring her down. "It seems to me, the only course of action is for us to talk. Unless you'd like to go back to kissing again." He raised his brows, and waited.

Bryony lowered her hands and stepped back. "Oh, all right. We'll talk. And then you leave." She turned to go back up the stairs. She paused with her hand on the railing and turned back to him. "Don't even _think_ of trying anything. Next time, you'll have broken bones to show for it."

"Oh, is that a threat?" He asked. "Well, I don't have to break bones, love. I'll just kiss you instead. All the fight went out of you as soon as I put my lips to yours. If I hadn't come up for breath, who knows where we'd be?" He smiled in a terribly smug way.

"Come on," She said flatly, stomping up the stairs. His amused gaze followed her barely clad behind the whole way up. She stalked into the bedroom, finding a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt and stuffing herself into them as he leaned casually against the doorjamb.

"Why were you reading my journals?" Bryony asked, surveying the mess spread across her bed.

Finn pushed himself away from the door. "Because your friend Anna shared some of your stories with me. You can imagine my surprise when I realized you'd been spying on my family - or do you have someone in the castle working for you?"

"Your family?" She asked, confused. "What does your family have to do with this?"

He strode across to the bed, picking up a random notebook. "Here," He said, thumbing through it. "Snow White and Prince Charming battling Medusa. And here, a street faire outside a castle, and there I am, wagering a friend that I can win a kiss from the vintner's daughter before day's end. And this one, Triton's son falling in love with a human woman..." He tossed them back on the bed. "My family. Me. You've been writing about us all, and I want to know why."

Bryony's eyes widened. "You think Snow White and Prince Charming are your family?"

He gave a stiff nod. "My grandparents."

She nodded back, warily. "Your grandparents. Right."

She began backing toward the doorway again, slowly. "Why don't I just get us a drink..."

"Oh no!" He said, stepping forward and grabbing her arm in a lightning-fast move. "You're not leaving. I want answers."

"Do you realize how you sound, Finn?"

His eyes narrowed. "There you go again."

"What?"

"Calling me by name. I've never introduced myself. Or did that slip your mind?"

She started to frame an excuse, but he could read the lie easily enough in her eyes. "You know me," He growled, pulling her up tight against him. "And I want to know _how_."

"This is going to sound crazy," She whispered.

"Try me."

"I've dreamed about you. For a long time. I've seen you in my dreams and sometimes, I get visions when I'm awake. I write them down." She moved her eyes away, embarrassed. "Well, most of them, anyway."

"You've dreamed about me?" He let her arm go. "Are you a seer?"

"A - A _seer_? You mean, can I see the future?" She asked, carefully.

"Yes."

She swallowed. "Sometimes."

"And what about me? Did you see me coming?" His eyes were so green, and so very intense.

"Yes."

"Then why did you run from me?" He asked. "If this is some kind of fate, or destiny, why run away?"

She stared at him mutely, refusing to answer.

Finn gave a sigh. "So you're a seer. Why are so many of these about my family?"

She gave him a confused look. "Triton's son is your family?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Married in, of course. Though I did just find out I have Naiad blood. Quite a shock." He rubbed his ear. "But that's neither here nor there. You see not only the future, but the past. _My_ past. Why?"

Bryony sank down on the bed, running a hand through her hair. "No. Oh, no. No." She denied over and over. "This can't be happening. I'm dreaming it. I must be."

Finn sat down beside her, reaching for her hand. "Do I feel like a dream, love?"

_Yes,_ she thought. _You feel like Finn and Finn is always in my dreams._

"I don't know," She said, finally. "I don't know what to think."

"Perhaps I'd better start from the beginning," He suggested. "I'm from a realm known as the Enchanted Forest. My Grandparents have a kingdom there, and they are, indeed, Snow White and Prince Charming. Their daughter is my Mother, Emma, who married my father - a pirate formerly known as Hook. I have a sister, Meriel, and she's married to Kai, the son of Triton. And I came here to this realm just to find you."

She stared at him, open-mouthed. "You really believe that."

"I really _am_ all that," He promised. "And I can tell you a little bit about you, too."

"What?" She started. "Me?"

"We don't know what happened to your parents, but a young girl was carrying you as an infant, newly-born, and approached my parents, begging them for help. She ended up tossing you through a magical portal, the same one that brought me to you."

"_Tossing_ me?"

"It was an accident, or so I was told. But you vanished, and my parents never knew what happened to you. What can you tell me about your parents? The ones here?"

"My mother died when I was four. She was a high school science teacher. My father taught Literature at a University. He died seven months ago."

Finn's eyes softened. "I'm sorry."

She bit her lip. "He was sick for a long time." She blinked a few times, then cleared her throat. "Anyway, I was adopted, they told me that. I'd been found in an alley here in the city shortly after my birth. My arm was broken, and I was suffering from exposure. I couldn't have been more than hours old, because my umbilical cord was still attached."

"Yes, my parents said they saw the cord when the girl was carrying you. At first, they thought she might have been the mother. She vanished after you did, and my parents couldn't find her. They did take home one souvenir." He held up his hand, and the ring gleamed dully in the light. "This."

She stared at his ring, bringing her fingers up to touch it, stroking it carefully. Her eyes met his, and they were wide with wonder. "Tristan's ring," She murmured, tracing the pattern of the leaves and vine.

Finn reached across, taking her hand in his. "And this ring - I've seen the rose pattern but once before. I actually thought I'd imagined it because I was a bit drunk. But they say pixie dust never lies. Your roses were revealed when the dust hit my ring. I had a compass to lead me to where you were, but seeing your ring told me definitely that you were you."

Bryony sat in a state of shock. "It's all true..." She whispered. "The fairy tales, the myths, the legends..."

Finn nodded, raising his brows. "All true."

"You're the grandson of Snow White?"

"And Prince Charming. And the great-grandson of a Naiad. On my father's side." He clarified.

"And my parents..." She stood up, shaking her head. "My parents were Tristan and Isolde. The greatest love story in all of medieval literature."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I saw them. I saw them running, with the young girl. I saw my father fight, and my mother birth me, I saw them both as they died." She put her face in her hands. "Oh God. I saw it all. I keep seeing it. I just never realized it was me."

Finn stood up. "I 'know it's a lot to take in. But there must be a reason you're seeing all this. Your life. My life. Together, we're meant to fix something, and I think that something is your kingdom."

She looked at him through teary eyes. "My - my kingdom? I have a _kingdom_?"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Welcome to the world of misfit fairytale characters, love."


	13. Making Up

_**Hello everyone! I'm sure you've noticed that I'm a little slower on the updates right now. Alas, this will be the case, at least for the next two weeks. I pitch my YA novel in NYC in less than two weeks and I am writing, revising, freaking and writing some more. There's not a lot of time or brainmatter left over. Rest assured, though, Finn is in there, and he has a WHOLE lot more story to tell. You cannot even imagine how much he and Bryony (and Hook and Emma and yes, even Meriel and Kai) have yet to see. I'm even working on a happy ending for someone you're probably not even thinking about. :) How's that for mystery?**_

_**Anyway, bear with me for the next couple of weeks, please. I promise, it'll pay off. In the meantime, at least we're not on hiatus anymore! Thank you all so much for reading (and commenting - oh, how I love your comments! They make me SUCH a better writer) and thanks again to all of you who've bought my books and reviewed them for me. SO appreciated! Now, back to our story...**_

* * *

"Oh, God," Emma said, running her hand through her hair. "That can't be what this is about. Finn can't be destined to be a _King_."

"He'd hate it," Killian agreed. "And we don't even know that Brandt is telling the truth." He closed the door to the captain's cabin behind him, then removed his coat and slung it over a chair.

"Why would he lie about all of that?" Emma asked, throwing her coat over his. "And it's easy enough to verify. My mother's mother was Eva, but I don't recall the name of her kingdom before she married my grandfather. My mother would know."

"Finn is too restless for the demands of a throne." Killian pointed out.

Emma leaned back against the table. "What if that's just what he needs? To settle him down?"

Killian closed his eyes. "No." He shook his head. "No. Not Finn."

"Why not Finn? He's royal enough. He's smart. Resilient. He's magical. Why not?"

"Because you were right. He's too much like me."

Emma stepped closer. "And _you_ were right. He's got a destiny and I need to back off. Maybe this is it."

"Finn isn't meant to be chained to a palace somewhere," Killian disagreed. "I cannot even fathom it."

"It's a kingdom on the water," Emma pointed out. "And it's not like he's going to inherit the throne back home. He's too far down in succession. Besides, Brandt said magic had to return to the throne in order to break the curse. Even the King mentioned it. Why else would that compass have chosen Finn in the first place? Our children are magical. Second generation true love."

"That doesn't mean he's right for it, Emma," Killian said with exasperation. "You were right. He's too much like me at that age - impulsive, self-centered, reckless - "

"But we need to let him make his own mistakes!" She countered. "And maybe, just maybe, a few of those will settle him down. Don't you see that?"

Killian's jaw tightened. Emma put a hand on his chest.

"Are we really arguing about who was more _right_?" She raised her brows incredulously.

He raised his brows in return. "It appears so."

"Well that's just...stupid."

"It is, isn't it?" He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her soundly. When he finally raised his head, she was giving him her trademark smirk.

Killian sighed. "So we're both right and Finn's still not going to like it, whether it's good for him or not. And I'll hold to my guns, love. I say 'not'."

"And I say we leave it as an option, and let Finn decide." She offered. "Jones men like to make their own destiny, or so I'm told."

"We do, indeed..." He leaned down, kissing her again, his lips pulling at hers as he maneuvered her toward the bed. "And right now," He gave her another soft, sucking kiss, "You are destined to be naked and writhing on a bed. And I'll be assisting you in this matter."

She gave a laugh as he pushed her backwards, coming down on top of her. "Killian - "

He kissed her again, working at the buttons on her breeches and tugging her shirt up as he kissed her neck and throat. "Hmmmm?"

"Killian." She slid her fingers into his hair, pulling his head up. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off on you like that."

"No, you were right, love. We need to do more to support him and get him the information he needs."

She gave him a half-smile. "Even if we'd done that first, he's still going to go out there and do what he has to do. He had his mind set. I saw that."

"I thought you were crying too much to see anything." He joked.

Emma reached up, pushing his hair off his forehead. "I saw _you_ in every inch of him. Finn is his father's son. I can't think of anything that would serve him better than that."

Killian looked absurdly pleased. "If you're trying to flatter me into your bed, love, it's a bit of a moot point."

Her laughter was smothered by his lips on hers again, and in no time at all he had them both free of clothing. His hand moved with practiced ease down the curves of her body, stroking and pressing in all the places he knew would make her wild for him. He buried his face in her breasts, his mouth moving from one to the other, sucking and grazing them with his teeth as her fingers tangled in his hair.

He slid himself between her legs, pulling her onto her side. Emma wound her leg around him, moving closer, urging him with her hips to finish what he'd started. He obliged her with a soft chuckle, then a sharp intake of breath as she pressed her breasts against his chest and moved on him, sending fire coursing through his veins. His arms tightened around her and he rolled her on her back again, moving powerfully within her until her heels dug into the bed beneath her and she cried out, tightening and pulsing around him. He let out a low, guttural moan as he drained himself inside her. Her hands stroked his back as his heart thundered in his chest and he kissed her neck softly while he waited to regain his breath.

He rolled to the side, pulling her up and across his chest, where she lay playing languidly with his chest hair, making little swirls and patterns with her fingers.

"Nicely done, love," He praised. "I've completely forgotten that we were ever angry at all." He kissed the top of her head, giving her a squeeze.

"I've never been very good at staying mad at you," She griped. "Between that damn face of yours and all that pirate charm, I never stood a chance."

"No," He agreed. "You didn't."

She yanked his chest hair and got an appropriate reaction for that one.

"Killian?"

"Mmmm?"

"Do you think he's all right?"

He closed his eyes. "He'll be fine, love. He'll work it out - whatever it is. And then he'll come home." He kissed her on the top of her head again, rubbing his chin across the soft strands of her hair.

"At least he's got that face of his going for him," Emma added. "Whoever this girl is, she doesn't stand a chance against it."

"Unless she's stubborn," Killian pointed out. "And too smart to be fooled by his charms. In other words, love, what if she's like you? It might do him good to get knocked on his arse a bit."

Emma smirked. "A mother can only hope."


	14. Stalemate

"So what do you expect me to do, here?" Bryony asked. "Assuming I actually believe all this."

"You're still going to try to deny it?" Finn asked incredulously. "You've had all these visions," He gestured to the journals spread across the bed, "You know my name, you know me, and we're both wearing what were probably your parent's wedding rings. What more do you need?"

"I don't know!" She shot back, leaping to her feet. "I just - this is incredible. It's nuts! Things like this don't happen to normal people."

"Not in this realm," He agreed. "But you don't belong here. Let me take you back. From there we can see about finding out what happened to your kingdom - "

"There you go again!" She threw up her hands. "I don't have a kingdom. I don't want a kingdom. And if my parents really were Tristan and Isolde, then they weren't even royal!"

"If there's one thing I've learned about this realm, it's that you can't go entirely by the storybooks, love." He stood up and walked over to her. "They're more like a rough outline. The details tend to be different."

"I'm not royal. And I'm not going anywhere," She reiterated stubbornly. "I have roots here. I have a life here. I have a house and a job and friends and this is where I belong."

He grabbed her by her shoulders. "No, it's not. Look, I know you're surprised by all of this, but I really don't plan on this taking too much more of my time. We need to get underway, and the sooner, the better." He dropped his hands and glanced around the room. "You can pack a few things, if you'd like. Just don't load yourself up. I have no idea where we'll land when we get back and we might have to travel."

Bryony looked at him like he was crazy. Mainly because he was.

"I know I was talking," She said sarcastically. "I recognize the sound of my own voice. What part of 'No, I'm not going" was unclear to you?"

"Bryony - "

"No."

"You need to be reasonable about this. I didn't travel across realms just to shake your hand and leave."

"I don't recall inviting you!" She snapped. "Whatever 'agenda' you have is yours, not mine, Finn."

He stepped into her more closely, then reached out, twisting a lock of her hair thoughtfully around his finger. "What if I gave you a more compelling reason to come along?"

She was staring at his lips. She couldn't help herself. And when she raised her eyes, his gaze said he knew it. She started to lean in, feeling his arms start to go around her, and somehow, she found the fortitude to step back.

"You need to leave. This discussion is over."

Finn's jaw tightened and he looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Is that the way it's going to be, then?"

"Yes."

"Very well. We'll do this the hard way." He reached for her, intending to throw her over his shoulder, when she whirled and shoved an elbow hard into his solar plexus. Finn doubled over, then came at her again, only to have a kick to the chest throw him into the wall.

"Will you _stop_ doing that!" He said crossly.

"Don't even think of trying that again," Bryony warned. "Now get out of here before I call the cops."

He straightened up, giving her a heated glare. "I'll go for now, but I'll be back tomorrow. We have a destiny, and I won't let you sidestep that."

"My destiny is right here," She reaffirmed. Then she pointed him towards the doorway. She followed him down the stairs, and when he reached the front door, he paused to look back at her.

"You have to see that there's something bigger than you or I in play here. Tell me you don't feel it." He challenged.

"Out!"

"Damnable, stubborn woman," He griped, as he went out the door. Bryony closed it behind him, then locked both the sliding lock and the deadbolt before letting out a long, shaky sigh.

Oh, God. Finn was here. He was finally here and he was determined that she and he had a destiny together. Bryony leaned back against the door, swallowing hard as tears flooded her eyes.

He was so impossibly handsome. Perfect, even. He was smart and funny and he had that panty-steaming accent on top of it all. She'd dreamed of people her whole life. Sometimes, she met them. She'd even dated a few. None of them were as vivid in her dreams, or even close to being as compelling. And none of them had ever been a lover in a dream. Only Finn.

And faced with him in reality she realized that he was as crystal-clear as her dreams showed him to be. No fuzzy edges or dreamy illusions to cloud around him, no allegory in the narrative to allude to what the dream really meant. Everything with Finn was defined and her memories upon waking from her sleep or her trance were blazingly detailed in every way when he was involved.

Because he was right. He was most likely, probably, even assuredly - her destiny somehow.

But she'd be damned is she was going to be his.

She couldn't let that happen, no matter what the cost. Her visions had always been her own personal sort of purgatory, and now they'd descended further into a living hell. She had to get him to leave, before her stupid heart did something foolish.

This was Finn, her Finn, and she had to save him.

###

She called Lydia first thing in the morning to let her know she'd have to be out for a few days. Luckily, one of their former employees was home on college break and looking to pick up some hours, so she wasn't really leaving the shop in a bind. She'd packed her bag almost immediately after Finn left, waiting a couple of hours before she made her way to the train station. She caught the 5:15 am train out to New York, and from there, she'd be hopping the subway to a hostel on 31st street.

It wasn't much of an escape plan, but if it threw him off the trail for awhile, maybe even long enough for him to get discouraged and go home, it would be worth the disruption to her life. She laid her head back against the headrest of the seat, and closed her eyes.

She dreamed.

_They were on a ship and the wind was howling, despite the sky being clear and blue and cloudless. The deck was pitching and tossing, trying to throw her off into the water, and she fought, pulling herself along the rail hand-over-hand until she reached him._

_He was at the wheel, his hands bound tight with vines, keeping him on course, steering into something unknown, and whatever it was, her senses recognized as danger. The dread on his face was obvious, and he fought against his bindings, trying to pull free. She reached out, pulling at the vines, tearing at them with her fingers, but every time she broke one, another grew in its place. _

_"We have to turn around!" She shouted, trying to make herself heard over the screaming wind. "Finn! We have to turn around!"_

_"No! He shouted. "No! We have to keep going!"_

_Bryony pulled out a dagger, bringing it down across the vines. "I won't let you!" She argued, stabbing and sawing at the vine, only to see it gush red, spraying as though she'd severed a limb, the blood running over her hands and his arms thick and hot. Suddenly, a violent jolt threw her off him and she landed on her back on the deck below, gasping to regain her breath. The ship was breaking into pieces around her, and the last thing she saw were the vines, twining around him like the arms of a lover, pulling him under the waves._

She opened her eyes, trying not to pant too loudly. She was shaking all over, and it wasn't until she tried to run a hand over her face that she realized he had ahold of the hand, and was sitting right next to her.

"Another vision?" Finn asked, his eyes concerned.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and leaning back against the seat. "Yes."

"What about?"

She shook her head no, but didn't say anything. Finally, she opened her eyes, and pulled her hand from his.

"How did you find me?" She asked, simply.

"I never lost you. Did you think I'd just go away?"

"I'd hoped," She said, sighing. She turned her head on the seat and looked at him. "I can't go with you, Finn."

"And I can't go without you," He replied. "So where does that leave us, love?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's called a stalemate. Or so I've been told."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "So it is." He looked down at his hands a moment, as though he were thinking. "Look, I understand that it's...unsettling. Having me show up out of nowhere, then finding out what you've found out - "

"And then being told to just up and leave my whole life behind," She added. "Yeah, I'd say that's a bit _unsettling_."

"Maybe we just need to start from the beginning. Spend some time getting to know one another," He suggested.

She bit her lip, shaking her head slightly. Still not answering him.

"Come on, love. You've been dreaming about me and my family, and we both want to know why. Maybe the answers lie in what we can learn from each other. Let's spend some time together, let's talk." He reached out, twining his fingers around hers again. "Let's figure this out."

She turned her face to the window, watching the scenery go by. Finn watched her carefully, and he waited.

"Okay," She said. "We'll talk."

She didn't look back at him, choosing to keep her face turned away. Finn relaxed back into the seat, grinning in spite of her deliberate attempt to close him out.

She probably didn't even realize he was still holding her hand.


	15. Cat And Mouse

"Well, we're here." Bryony stood looking around the train platform, stepping back against the wall so that people could get by her. "Should we stay for breakfast and then go back? Or do you just want to turn right around?"

Finn turned slowly around. "New York," Finn said. "Haven't been here in _years_."

"Ah-HA!" She exclaimed. "So you're from New York!"

"I didn't say that," He refuted. "I merely said I haven't been here in a long time. I visited once, with my brother." He put his hands on his hips, considering her. "What if we don't go back? Not right away."

"So...breakfast?" Bryony shrugged.

"Weren't you planning to be here, at least overnight? You packed a bag," He pointed out.

"You want to stay overnight?"

"Why not? Give us some time away and we've nothing to do but talk. I have plenty of money. I can get us a room at a nice inn - "

"Whoa. Hold on, there. _Us_?"

"If we're to be spending the evening getting to know each other, I think a room would be best." He gave her a smile and a look from under his extraordinarily long lashes.

Bryony's lips parted, and she was spellbound for a moment. Finn's smile turned into a knowing look, and he stepped in, pressing his advantage. "Perhaps we were destined for more than just meeting, love."

"Destined for each other?" She deadpanned. "That's the best you can come up with? Let me guess: the girls in your realm aren't known for their brains." She shouldered her bag, then turned to walk up the steps. He fell in next to her.

"All right," He said, peevishly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to assume anything."

"Yes, you did." She wouldn't look at him. "I have someplace to stay."

"Perhaps I could take a room in the same establishment. That way we can speak more easily."

She gave him a look that said clearly: _I'll bet._ "Knock yourself out."

"What?" He looked at her, askance.

"It's a figure of speech. I didn't mean literally."

"One never knows with you," He reminded her. "You've done nothing but beat and bruise me since we met." His hand went to his chest, rubbing. "That last kick you gave me nearly broke a rib."

"I didn't even kick you hard," She said, rolling her eyes. "I wan't trying to hurt you. When I do try, you'll be feeling it."

They reached the street, and Bryony stopped to get her bearings, glancing up at the street sign at the corner.

"Tell me something," He asked darkly. "Are you this unpleasant to all the men who try to talk to you? Or just me?"

She started off down the street, once again not bothering to look at him. "Just you."

That had been a rhetorical question, and Finn was more than a little put out that she'd actually answered it. "I'm beginning to think that you don't like me much."

Bryony stopped. "Just beginning?" She shook her head and started walking again.

He grabbed her arm, stopping her again. "Hold on a moment," He said crossly. "What have I done to you? Other than try to talk to you, I mean?"

"Seriously? You broke into my house," She reminded him.

"Did I try to harm you in any way?"

"You kissed me!" She accused loudly.

"And that's the only time you didn't fight me off," He retorted.

Bryony glanced around at the passers- by on the street and shifted her eyes to a point just over his shoulder. "Fair enough." She brought her eyes back to him. "And I don't dislike you, Finn."

He sighed. "I suppose that's an improvement. You don't _dis_like me."

Bryony started walking again, and within a few moments, she was in front of the hostel. "This is where I'm staying."

"For how long?" Finn asked.

"Until I was sure you were gone."

"Right." He gave her a grim smile. "Let's get you settled then, shall we?"

He opened the door, gesturing for her to precede him. She checked in with the desk and they discovered that the hostel was at capacity, and an open bed wasn't anticipated for three more days. Finn thanked the owner, then saw Bryony to her room. He stood in the doorway, one arm leaned against the doorjamb, watching her place her bag on the bed.

"I'll let you have some time to yourself. You must be tired."

She gave him a nod, and sank down on the bed next to her bag.

"I'll be back in three hours to take you to lunch, and we'll talk."

"Okay."

He reached out, and pulled the door with him as he went. Then he walked down the hallway, past the front desk, out the doors, and leaned up against the building.

And he waited.

Ten minutes later, Bryony cautiously stepped out the door, glancing up and down the street. She took two steps, and then her sweeping gaze landed on Finn and she stopped dead in her tracks with a look of pure frustration on her face.

"Goddammit."

"Such language," Finn remarked, walking up to her. "May I take your bag for you?"

"I'm going back inside."

He shook his head. "No, you're not."

"I'm not?"

"You're coming with me," Finn said, reaching out and taking her bag off her shoulder. "I don't fancy having to sleep on the street in order to keep an eye on you. Now you either come along, or we create a loud and ridiculous scene here on the streets of New York."

Finn could practically see the gears turning in her head as she considered that. She threw her hands up and shouted in frustration.

"Aaaugh! All right. Whatever! Let's go."

She stomped off in the direction of the nearest hotel, and he called after her.

"You're bloody adorable when you're angry. Did you know that?"

He watched her shoulders scrunch and she just kept stomping.

This girl was going to be a real challenge. And that was something Finn had never equated with a female in his entire life. He raised a brow, and then he followed her.


	16. Foregone Conclusion

**_Hi readers! Thanks for being so patient with me! I'm writing this from my hotel room in the Big Apple, and so far, I'm having an awesome time at the New York Writer's Workshop Fiction Pitch. Tomorrow, I pitch my novel to the editors, and rub elbows with a room full of literary agents. Today was spent crafting my pitch with a mentor who told me it was solid and she was fascinated by my book. Keep your fingers crossed for me! If all goes well, I can take a deep breath and get back to updating daily! In the meantime, I'm sure you'll all be holding on just fine because we finally get a Hook-centric episode! Yeah, baby!_**

**_So it's off to bed with me now. And off to the hotel with Finn and Bryony..._**

* * *

Bryony took one look at the room and walked right back out of it.

"What?" Finn asked in exasperation.

"You know very well what. I saw the adjoining door."

He walked into the room, throwing her bag down on her bed. "It does have a lock, you know. Or do you not know how to use one?" He put his hands on his hips. "Honestly, I'm beginning to think you're trying to get rid of me."

Bryony threw up her hands. "Ya think?"

"I only wanted to be easily accessible, if you should need me. That's all."

"If I should need you." She deadpanned. "How exactly do you think I'll _need_ you?"

Finn stepped closer, invading her space as usual. "You know, love, I haven't said a word that could be considered untoward. You seem to be steering the conversation there all by yourself." He reached out to twirl a lock of her hair around his finger.

Bryony took a deep breath to calm her suddenly escalating heartbeat. "Sorry."

Finn raised his brows. "Beg pardon?"

"You heard me. I'm sorry. I'm...overreacting, I know."

"Oh, I know you are. What I'd like to know is why," He answered, stroking his chin. "You've been determined to hate me from the moment you saw me."

She sank wearily down on the bed. "I told you...I don't hate you."

He started to sit down next to her, then thought better of it and positioned himself on the other double bed facing her. "Then why? Are you afraid of going home?"

Bryony's head snapped up. "Home? This is home. Not New York, I mean. Philly. Where I live."

"Is it really?" Finn put his hands down on the bed and made a study of his boots. "It seems to me that other than Lydia and Anna, you've nothing to tie you there. Are you really that excited about a life as a serving wench?"

She made a snorting sound. "I majored in coffee shop wenchery in college. It's been my dream career for as long as I can remember." She shook her head at the look on his face. "That was a joke."

He raised a brow. "It's obvious we have a lot to learn from each other. We're in New York, and we have nothing but free time. Let's go and get some food and get to know each other." He held up a forestalling hand when he saw the look on her face. "Just talking. I promise."

"No psuedo-seduction?" She asked suspiciously.

He gave her a grin. "When I seduce you, love, you won't have a doubt as to what I'm doing."

She let him help her to her feet, and she tried not to fixate on the fact that he said "when" and not "if."

###

Of course, it had to be a quintessentially perfect summer day. They opted for lunch in the park, but instead of hitting up a nearby street vendor, Finn surprised Bryony by suggesting pizza.

"One of my favorite foods," She said, settling down on the grass with her slice.

"Mine as well. Granny used to make something close, but she took the secret to her grave, unfortunately."

"Your grandmother was a cook?"

Finn gave a wistful laugh. as he bit into his slice. "She wasn't my grandmother. More like everyone's, really. She was a right spitfire, the old woman, all the way to the day she died."

"You loved her," Bryony said.

"Aye. She taught me to fire my first crossbow. Can't say that my Uncle Leo was too happy about it, as I hit him in the arse with it."

Bryony crinkled up her brow. "An old woman with a crossbow? Did she have a granddaughter?" She struggled to find the memory. "Little Red Riding Hood?"

"I wouldn't call Red "little". She's as tall as I am, and quite fearsome at certain times of the month."

Bryony rolled her eyes. "That's an incredibly crass and sexist thing to say, you know."

"What?" Realization dawned and it was almost comical when it did. "Oh. I didn't mean it _that_ way. She turns into a wolf."

"Really?" Bryony's eyes lit up. "What's she like? Does she have a big temper? Does she go on a rampage every month?"

"Come back with me, and I'll take you to meet her. You can meet my family, as well."

"Snow White? And Prince Charming?"

Finn nodded. "In the flesh. Look, I've read your stories," he continued. "You've got a real talent. They're more than just re-tellings of my family history. You've captured details and fleshed out emotions that I never thought to identify with them before. What you have is a gift, love, and it's wasted in this realm."

She pulled her knees up shaking her head in denial before hugging them tightly.

"What I've got is a curse, Finn. Do you have any idea how hard it is to live with this? The visions come on me sometimes without notice. Sometimes they're nice stories, like with your family, and sometimes..." She shuddered, then she looked away. "Even if I could find someone to date who doesn't mind these weird fits I get, I end up having a vision and I think to myself, 'Why waste my time?' I know it's going to end. I even usually know _how i_t's going to end. It's just easier to end it first, before I get too involved."

"Did it occur to you that they might all end because you're not meant to stay? " Finn suggested. "Surely fate would have worked out a solution by now if you were meant to be here."

"Fate doesn't like me much," She said quietly. Then she sat her chin on her folded arms, on top of her knees. "I don't hate you, Finn. If circumstances were different, I think you and I could be...friends. But I can't allow that."

"You can't _allow_ it?"

"No."

"Why the hell not?" He was getting perturbed again.

"Because I know how it ends with you, too." She looked over at him, and something in her eyes made him suddenly want to hold her.

"If it ends, love, then it's a foregone conclusion that is begins. Or has already begun."

"That's what I'm afraid of." She slid her eyes sideways to look at him. His dark hair gleamed in the sunlight, and his eyes were a perfect summer green. It would be easy, so very easy to lie down next to him here in the dirt, to roll into him, under him, to feel his body move on hers, pressing her into the warmth of the earth... but she got a grip on herself. These were foolish thoughts. based on foolish dreams that always ended badly.

Finn laid back on the grass, folding his hands under his head.

"What I wouldn't give to see what's inside of that head of yours," he said.


	17. Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

_**Hello everyone! Well, the whirlwind weekend is done, and now the craziness really begins. Here's the scoop. I've got two agents interested in me and two editors (one from a very, very big publishing house) interested in my book. I submit to all of them this week, and then I wait. Guess I'll have to write some fanfic while I do, because it can take months before anything happens after a submission. Still, it's great news and the feedback I got was extremely positive. Keep your fingers crossed for me!**_

_**Now back to our 2nd favorite pirate, Finn...**_

* * *

They spent the rest of the afternoon walking around Central Park and ironically ending up at the castle. Finn raised a sardonic brow as they approached.

"Drawn to it, were you?" He asked.

"We were walking this way," Bryony replied.

"Well, it's a lot smaller than what I'm used to," Finn replied. "Still, it seems sturdily made, and has a charm about it."

"It's meant to be a miniature representation," Bryony informed him. "Nobody actually lives in it, Finn. It's for tourists and people to visit."

Bryony found a set of steps and dropped down to sit. "Uuuugh. I haven't done that much walking in a long time. I forget how big this park is."

"That's the problem with this realm," Finn remarked, looking around at the people milling about. "So many of you have gone soft. Your motorized cars and trains and buses make it all to easy to be lazy."

She looked up at him. "So I'm lazy now?"

"Not you, love. You look quite...fit." He gave her an appreciative glance that made her feel even warmer than she already was.

"I do work out." She said, defensively.

"I'm well aware of that. I took the brunt of your workout last night."

"You deserved that."

Finn leaned up against the wall behind him. "I must say, you completely surprised me. I must outweigh you by half and you only reach my shoulder in height. How did a little thing like you manage to flip me on my arse so easily?"

Bryony leaned back on her palms. "It's all about leverage. That, and surprise. I know where to hit to send you off balance or how to twist to pull you that way, and I took the offensive, which you weren't expecting."

"Well it was very well done of you. I'd ask for some pointers, but I think you'd still enjoy beating me up too much."

She couldn't quite stifle her smile. "We should be heading back. Are you getting hungry?"

"Yes."

"Well, we can find a place to eat easy enough. We need to head downtown to the hotel." She stood up, brushing off her pants."What kind of food do you like?"

"I'm easily pleased. When I was here with Henry, I developed a love for pizza, donuts and uh...Mexican Food." He said, remembering.

"We can catch the subway down to Rosa Mexicano. It's got the best guacamole on the planet."

They found their way onto the subway but discovered that the restaurant was booked solid and they didn't have a reservation. They decided to wander the nearby area, looking for a restaurant and found a feisty pub with what sounded like live music and a nearly full food menu. They got a table not far from the front and had just ordered their food when Bryony leaned in, speaking a little louder to be heard.

"It's karaoke night!" She exclaimed.

"What?" Finn looked baffled.

"Karaoke. Um...singing. You pick a popular song and you get up and sing it." she gave him a grin. "I wouldn't imagine you know any popular songs."

"I know plenty of songs," He supplied. "Just none that can be shared in polite company."

They settled back with their food and enjoyed the performances. It was eighties night, and Bryony was having more fun than she'd had in a long time. She had an enormous margarita and kicked back in her chair, just enjoying the vibe.

Finn didn't seem to know what to make of it. He was enjoying his food, but the Cyndi Lauper and Boy George tunes weren't exactly to his taste.

"So what kind of music do you want to hear?" Bryony asked, leaning in a little too much, thanks to the Margarita. She didn't seem to realize she had her breast sitting on his arm and he wasn't about to bring it up.

"I don't know," he answered, considering. "I like songs that tell a story. Songs that tell of a struggle or a quest. Something like that."

She stared at him, nodding her head thoughtfully. "I get what you mean. And I think I know what to sing now."

She excused herself to speak with the DJ running the karaoke machine, and returned to the table. "I'm up next," she said. "The other girl chickened out."

"I didn't know you could sing," Finn said.

"Yep." She leaned in again with a smug smile. "I can sing. I also make really, really good chocolate chip cookies and outstanding pancakes."

Finn's eyes brightened. "I happen to love pancakes."

She poked a finger at him, still grinning and more than a bit loopy. "You only get pancakes if you stay the night." She realized what she'd just said and tried to backtrack. "I mean, I usually only cook them when I have guests."

He gave her a knowing grin. "I completely understand."

She raised her eyebrows as the music died down. "I'm up! Back in a minute." Bryony made her way up to the stage, grabbing the microphone from the previous singer as she went and waiting a little self-consciously while the DJ cued up her track. Then the 10-bar intro began and Finn sat back, waiting to see what would come of it.

And he wasn't prepared for her at all. She certainly could sing. Not a high, girlish voice, but deeper, stronger, with a warmth and fierceness all at the same time. And the song was nothing like what he'd been hearing tonight. This one seemed to come from inside her, and he was completely mesmerized.

I have climbed the highest mountains  
I have run through the fields  
Only to be with you  
Only to be with you.

I have run, I have crawled  
I have scaled these city walls  
These city walls  
Only to be with you.

But I still haven't found  
What I'm looking for.  
But I still haven't found  
What I'm looking for.

The song went on, and her voice carried him, pulling at him, calling to the restlessness he had within him. He knew what it was to always be searching. When she finished the song, the room broke into wild applause and she took an embarrassed bow before handing the microphone off to the next person. She slid back into her seat and reached for her drink.

"You really can sing," He agreed. "That was..." He didn't know how to explain it. "Perfect. It fit perfectly. Thank you."

She smiled softly as she took a drink. "That one's always been a favorite." She set her drink down and put her chin in her hand, leaning an elbow on the table. "I guess I've spent my whole life feeling like I didn't belong where I was."

"I thought Philadelphia was your home?" Finn asked. "You were very sure of it."

"It is. It's where my parents raised me." She looked away. "Where they're buried."

"You're young to have lost your parents already." Finn said with sympathy. He couldn't even imagine it for himself. It was inevitable someday, he supposed, but he couldn't ever bring himself to think on it. And even though Bryony's parents were adoptive, it didn't make them any less her parents. His Aunt Regina was proof of that.

"My mother had leukemia. She died when I was a kid. My father was much older than her - he was in his mid-fifties when they adopted me. Four years ago he started developing Alzheimer's - that's a form of dementia. He didn't even know who I was for most of the last year of his life."

"And now you're free to find a life of your own. So why haven't you?"

Her eyes were overly bright, and it wasn't just from the drink. "Oh, I don't know." She waved a hand vaguely. "It's important to have roots, don't you think? A place or people that ground you." She took another sip of her drink. "But I do wish I could be...I don't know..._out there_. More than I am. Adventurous." She gave a laugh. "I guess because I'm a fairy tale character, right?"

"You were meant for more than this," he said, taking her hand. He stroked the back of her knuckles with his thumb and gave a short little laugh.

"What?" She glared at him.

"No, it's not you, love. It's me."

"What's that supposed to mean?

"It means, I just opened my mouth to speak and my mother's voice came out. She's right. We were both meant to be more than what we are, and I'm willing to wager that our restlessness comes from denying our true nature."

She nodded. "That's really philsoloph - philosloph-" she couldn't quite say the word, so she chose another. "Deep. That's really deep. And you're probably only saying that to get me to kiss you." She snickered.

He hadn't been, but the thought was certainly on his mind now. "Would you like to?"

She leaned her head back to look up at the ceiling, and tears formed in her eyes as she shook her head no.

"Yes." It came out of her mouth, despite her head's inclination. "But I can't."

"I won't turn into a pumpkin, love. We've already kissed once, if you recall."

"Oh, I recall it, all right," she said morosely. She turned her head to look at him. "We can't be, Finn. Not ever. Trust me on this. I'm doing you a favor."

"What aren't you telling me, Bryony?"

She shook her head again, remaining mute.

"Listen to me, love. If there's one thing I know, it's magic. You have it, and here's a bit of a secret - so do I. It's part of my nature, as it's part of yours. And one thing I learned about visions and prophecies and predictions is that fate has a hand, but so does choice. We are defined by our actions. And now I'm channeling my father. Bloody hell. What I'm saying, love, is you can't spend your life looking over your shoulder for what _might_ happen. Indulge that adventurous spirit of yours. Take a leap of faith."

Bryony had been staring at him steadily, wide-eyed and enraptured with his speech. She took a final drink from her glass, draining it and setting it on the table.

"That's enough for tonight. I'm tired." She stood up, wobbled a little and then walked out of the pub without even bothering to see if he was following.

Finn laid down some money to cover the check, then he stepped out onto the street, not terribly surprised to find her already gone.


	18. Confession

**_All right, you wonderfully patient people. I got a little sidetracked with another writing project that sort of hit me out of nowhere and now we're back in the swing of things. And now that I've watched "The Jolly Roger" about six dozen times, I've got a lot to catch you up on! Hey, is it just me, or does Hook have the hardest damn skull in existence? How many times has this man been hit on the head? How does he have any short-term memory at all anymore?_**

**_But I digress. You didn't come here for my idiotic commentary. You want to know about Finn. Off we go..._**

* * *

He found her before she even made the subway, falling into step beside her. She didn't say a word to him, just let out a rather loud sigh that made him bite back a smile.

"You're really not going away, are you?" She said, not even bothering to look at him as they walked along.

"No. Did you honestly think I would, love? How many times do we have to play this game? Really, aren't you tired of running from me?"

She turned her head to look at him, finally. "Yes." She stopped walking, shoving her hands into her underarms as she wrapped her arms around herself. "Do you want to know the truth, Finn? The whole truth?"

He put his hands on his hips. "That would be a fine start, if you can manage it."

"The truth..." she looked up, shaking her head slightly. She was more than a little fuzzy from that big-ass margarita and now she could feel the words coming to her lips despite the faint warnings of her logical mind.

"The truth is...I've been dreaming about you for as long as I can remember. Not just your family, Finn, but you." She gave a self-conscious little laugh. "You and me, I mean. Together. Spending time together, laughing together, being romantic together, sleeping in your arms and kissing you and...and making love to you. _Years_ of this, Finn. And knowing, all the time, that no one would ever be able to compare to that. I'd half-convinced myself that you were some lofty ideal that my poor mind invented to keep me from getting attached to anyone else - for their sake, anyway."

She bit her lip and made a point of looking down at the sidewalk, where she was nudging the edge of a crack with the tip of her shoe. She was trying very hard not to show how much all of her senses came alive when he'd stepped closer. Then he reached out and tilted her face up to his.

"If you knew we were going to be, why fight to change it? Am I so awful, now that you've met me?" His thumb stroked along her jaw, and she couldn't look away.

"No. You're even better looking in person, I'm afraid. And more stubborn than I expected."

"Apparently, we have that in common." His eyes twinkled, and she guessed his intent a second before his lips touched hers - and this time, she didn't stop him.

The kiss was soft and almost sweet. He lingered a moment, but made no move to pull her closer or deepen the kiss. Bryony's startled eyes met his, but she didn't say anything, or try to move away.

"There, now," Finn said. "Consider that a proper introduction."

She smiled. "But I already know you, Finn. I told you."

"Yes, but I hardly know you, love. I've got a lot of catching up to do, and that's best done over some good coffee." He stepped back. "Shall we go and find some?"

"You want to have coffee with me? Like...a date?" Bryony looked at him in a fuzzy sort of confusion.

"Were you going to suggest something else?" He asked, arching a brow.

She was, but now that she had a chance to think without his body so close and his mouth on hers, his was probably the better idea. It just didn't feel better at the moment. Especially with the v-neck of his tee shirt right in front of her and that chest hair peeking out. She realized she was staring at it, and lifted her eyes guiltily.

"Coffee is good. There's a place on the next block - we passed it on our way."

Finn made a grand gesture with his hand. "Lead on."

She turned away a bit reluctantly and he moved up beside her. "I must say, love, I find walking at your side far preferable to chasing you down the street."

"I've begun to realize what an exercise in futility that is." Bryony smirked.

"Good." He reached out, opening the door to the coffee shop for her. "Now do me a favor, and stop kicking my arse."

###

Finn was suddenly and instantly awake. He lay very still, waiting to discover what had gotten him this way. He searched his mind for a fragment of a dream, wondering if he'd woke himself out of something, when he heard her.

Bryony had cried out from the other room.

He was on his feet in an instant, and at the adjoining door a heartbeat later with the pick his father had thrown into his satchel working the lock. A moment later, he felt the tumbler turn and he was through the door and sliding into the bed, pulling her into his arms.

She came awake with a startled cry, her arms flailing to try to dislodge him.

"Shhh! Bryony! It's all right love, it's me. It's Finn."

She froze. "Finn?"

"Yes. You're dreaming." He reached out, smoothing her hair back as he held her against his chest.

She let out a muffled sound, and a moment later, she was shaking, hard. It wasn't stopping, either.

"You're as cold as ice, love," he chafed her arms up and down, pulling the blankets up and around them both.

"D-don't bother," she stammered, with her teeth chattering. "It'll b-be hours before I'm w-warm again. It's always the w-way with th-this one."

"This one?

"The d-dream."

"You've had this dream before," he reiterated. Bryony nodded, burrowing deeper into his warmth.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" he offered. "Maybe it'll help to get it out. Have you told anyone about it before?"

She nodded. "M-my parents. When I was a k-kid."

He raised his brows. "The same dream? Your whole life long?"

She nodded again, and a fresh round of shudders shook her body.

"I'm going to get you something hot to drink," Finn said, trying to ease himself away. Bryony responded by wrapping a leg around his and pulling herself in even tighter.

"No." Her voice was muffled against his chest. "Stay."

He wrapped both arms around her now, holding her. "I've got you. I've got you, love."

"I'm so cold," she said, rubbing her face into his chest.

His hand moved up and down her arms, then along her side to her hip, feeling the gooseflesh on her legs. Bryony moved in as close as she could be, her own arms coming around him in an effort to steal some of his warmth.

And they both came to the realization at the same time.

"You're naked!"

"So are you!"

Bryony started to pull away, but her body reacted immediately, sending her into another bout of shivering. Finn reached for her, pulling her back in again.

"Come on," he said, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing his arms up and down her back. "It's the fastest way to get you warm, love."

He was doing his best to keep his lower body a few inches further away from her, but it wasn't easy. She'd pulled her leg up again and draped it over his, and despite the chill on her flesh, he could feel the heat of her against his thigh.

He gritted his teeth, and kept rubbing her back. "Any better?"

She nodded slightly, still nuzzling into his chest.

"D'you want to talk about it?"

She gave an emphatic shake of her head. He let out a sigh and kept rubbing her back. "All right, love." He was about to reassure her that it was just a dream, but stopped himself when he realized it wasn't. Whatever had tormented her in the night had either really happened, or would come to pass. It occurred to him just what an terrible thing that must be, to witness events that you cannot change - horrible events. How bloody awful.

He gave her a soft kiss on her temple, pulling her in tight.

"Is it every night? These kind of dreams?" He asked. God, he hoped not.

"No. Sometimes the dreams are nice," she answered softly. "I like dreaming about your family. They seem kind of wonderful."

He smiled. "They are. I should like very much for you to meet them."

"And I dream about you, too."

He froze for a moment, remembering her earlier confession. Suddenly, the fact that they were both naked and she was in his arms was blazingly apparent. He tried for a little levity to force some restraint upon his all-to-aware body.

"Please tell me those always end well. Really, really well."

She gave a muffled laugh, then finally raised her head to look at him. "They start out great," she offered. Then her face turned serious. "The ending is the problem."

"Am I not attentive?" He was completely taken aback. It may only be a dream, but he was good and offended at the thought that his dream self might have been less than ideal as a bed partner.

She reached up, twining her arm around his neck. "You're wonderful, Finn. Always. It's not you, it's me."

She gave a tiny shiver, and he started rubbing her back again, slowly. "You're still cold?"

"Only a little now. This helped. A lot."

She shifted a bit in his arms, and his hand was on a downward trajectory when she did so - his palm stroked right over her backside, and she gave a convulsive shudder. He brought his hand slowly back up, watching her eyes close as she shifted, pressing herself into his grasp a little more firmly.

"Bryony." His voice was a whisper, but it brought her eyes open again.

"In your dreams...did I do this?"

He slid the hand slowly around to her hip, stroking softly, his fingers playing over the curve of the bone, following it down to where it joined her leg, then slid it back again to stroke her behind, cupping the smooth globe and squeezing. She reacted by pressing her eyes tightly shut.

"Yes," she breathed. "It was just like that."

"What about this?" he asked, sliding the tips of his fingers along the cleft of her buttocks, then onto her thigh and further down her leg, pulling it up higher until it was over his hip. His fingers returned, dancing up her leg lightly, then back over the curve of her waist and down over her buttocks again. This time, he moved his hand further back, tracing the cleft downwards until he was touching her heat with his fingertips.

She let out a tiny moan, and his name followed it, sending an instant burst of fire through his veins. He'd heard his name on her lips two dozen times since he'd met her, but never like this. The effect was entirely unexpected and knew he had to have more.

His mouth came down on hers without any of his usual finesse and seduction - this was need. Raw, unbridled need. His tongue pushed into her mouth, stroking and circling, mimicking the motion of his fingers below, and she responded fiercely, moving both arms around him and stroking his shoulders feverishly. He rolled her onto her back, shifting his hand around to the front of her and pushing her legs apart almost roughly so that he could slide his fingers into her warmth again.

"Finn..." she moaned against his lips.

"Soon love. Let me ready you..."

"Finn." He voice was stronger, and her hands came around to his arms to push against him. "Stop."

"What?" He kissed her again, as if he couldn't register what she was saying.

"Finn, please."

He stilled his hand, pulling back so that he could see her face more clearly in the dim light streaming in between the curtains that shielded the window.

"Bryony," he said softly. "I can feel how much you want me, love."

She lowered her head, but he was having none of that. He reached out, pulling her chin up and giving her a gentle kiss. "What are you so afraid of?" he asked. "Have you never been with a man before?"

She nodded. "Of course I have."

"And according to your dreams, you've been with me before."

"Yes." her voice was shaky. "I have. But that wasn't reality."

"No," he agreed. "But this is. I'm here and I'm real and right now, I swear I want you more than anything I've ever wanted in my life."

In the dim moonlight, he could see the bright sheen of tears in her eyes. "We can't Finn." She shook her head. "I told you, we can't be."

For some reason, that made him angry. He moved his hand back down, pressing his fingers into her heat. Her back arched and gripped his arms hard.

"Your body begs to differ, love."

"I can't help it," she said. "I want you." The words were uttered simply, but they were no less powerful for it. She let out a sob, and then another.

"Bryony?" Finn was instantly contrite. "It's all right, love. I won't do anything you don't want me to do, I swear it." His hands moved up across her back, holding her tightly.

"But I want you to do it," she said on a hiccuping sob. "I want to be with you. I want it all, Finn."

He pushed her hair back off her face, looking at her intensely. "What aren't you telling me, love? What?"

At the sound of his words, the floodgates were opened, releasing an endless torrent of pain as she buried her face in his chest and wept as though her heart was breaking.

"I want you, but I can never have you," She said, closing her eyes again in misery. "If I let myself love you, you'll die, Finn."

She looked up at him sadly, touching his face, his lips.

"You're going to die because of me."


	19. Turnabout

"What?" Finn reached for the switch on the bedside lamp, fumbling for a moment before managing to switch it on. "What did you say?"

"You heard me," Bryony swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. "Whoever, whatever I am to you, Finn, I'm your death. Every single vision I have of you ends the same way. You die."

He sat and digested that a moment before reaching out to take her hand.

"Your visions," he asked. "How often do they come true?"

She swallowed hard before meeting his eyes guiltily. "Always. They always do."

"There's never been an incidence where you've been off a little? Maybe interpreted literally something that was meant as a metaphor?"

"No." She sat up, pulling the sheet up around her as she leaned back against the headboard. "Not really. I mean, all my visions of the future involve a bit of interpretation. For instance, I saw that one guy I was dating was going to scald himself with coffee when he ended up tripping over his cat in the kitchen and pulling a pan of boiling water down on himself. The method of delivery was different, but the result was the same - the burn, the blisters."

"And I die a different way every time? Or is it always the same?"

"Always the same. You're strangled. Or hung. Or pulled underwater. And always by vines. Green, leafy vines. They twine around you until you're not breathing anymore." She shuddered all over, pulling her knees up to her chest. "And no matter what I do, I can't help you. I can't break them, and I can't get them off of you. I can only watch you die. Over and over again, I've watched you die."

She put her forehead to her knees, and the tears slipped out from between her closed lids. "I'm sorry, Finn. I should have told you the truth from the beginning. I can't be around you. Every moment you're near me, you're in danger. I've tried to keep you away."

He rubbed his neck with his hand. "Yes, you certainly have, I'll grant you that." He glanced over at her. "Give me a moment, love."

He got out of the bed and padded through the adjoining door, and Bryony tried very hard not to look at his magnificent backside. She felt like she was fighting a losing battle. He was everthing she'd dreamed and more. The memory of his hands on her heated her skin and made her squirm under the sheet.

Finn re-entered the room with his breeches on - thank goodness - and handed her a tee shirt.

"Here, love," he said, tossing it to her. "Put this on before I forget my good intentions."

Bryony grabbed the shirt, wriggling into it as he politely turned away, which was silly, considering where they'd been ten minutes ago. Once she'd pulled it over her head, he sat down next to her on the bed.

"It doesn't make sense," Finn said, shaking his head. "Why would my destiny be pointed to you," he reached into his pocket and withdrew the compass. "When you think my destiny is to die because of you? It makes no sense at all."

He glanced down at the compass, and the needle still pointed firmly at Bryony. He held it up so that she could see.

"This compass is magical," he said. "On the day my parents saw you, after you disappeared through that portal - the one that brought me to you, incidentally - this compass clearly pointed me to you, and I hadn't even been born yet. The compass doesn't lie, love. I was meant to find you, and for a reason bigger than the both of us."

She shook her head, refusing his words. "It's not the whole story. The compass is leading you to your death. Do you understand that?"

He reached out, taking her hand. "Let me tell you something about me, love, or at least about my family. We've faced certain death more times that I could possibly remember the telling of. And the one thing that carried them through all of it was hope."

"This is different, Finn," Bryony argued. "This is magic."

"A subject I happen to have some experience with. And while I don't claim to know everything about divination and prophecy, it just so happens that I know someone who does. A friend of the family. Let me take you to him, please. I feel confident Rumplestiltskin can help us get to the bottom of all of this."

"Rumplestiltskin?" She asked, her eyes wide. "The baby stealer?"

Finn gave a short laugh. "He's not like that, not exactly. The stories you have in this realm are a bit off from reality, love. You'll see."

"If I come home with you, you mean." She said, warily.

"Yes. Whatever is going on with your visions, with my destiny, with the two of us - the answers lie in the other realm. The realm you were born into. We need to begin the journey there."

"And if my visions are true?"

"Then I'm destined to die helping you."

She looked at him like he was crazy. "Just like that? Like your life is nothing?"

Finn raised a brow. "My life is quite precious to me, I assure you. I'm not going to let it go so easily. But don't you worry about me, love. I'm a Jones. One of the many things we excel at is survival."

She twisted the sheet at her waist fretfully. "Can I come back? When we're finished...doing whatever it is we're supposed to do?"

He chose his words carefully. "If you want to."

She looked away, shaking her head as if to say "this is crazy'. Finally, she heaved a loud sigh. "Oh, all right! You're not going to leave well enough alone. You're determined to flirt with death, so who am I to stop you, right? What do I care!"

He pulled her in, giving her firm but lingering kiss.

"We leave in the morning," Finn said, grinning. "Now get some rest." He laid down in the bed, pulling her into his side and settling her head on his chest.

"You're determined to sleep in here, aren't you?" She griped.

"I'm not stupid, love. You're still planning on running. I could see the gears turn even as you lied to me about going with me."

Bryony said nothing to that, because really, there was nothing to say. He was right. She had planned to run - to give him one last chance at survival. She relaxed against him, idly toying with the pendant that was nestled against his chest. She tilted the stone side-to-side in the light, watching the color change from brilliant aquamarine to deepest blue.

"What's this?" she asked. "It's pretty."

"My talisman?" He twisted his head to look down at her. "It's a sea-diamond. A gift from my father, delivered by my sister - and a relation of my brother-in-law."

She looked appropriately confused.

"Long story," he said. "I wear it always. It's got magical properties of it's own." His hand came down to twine around the chain about her neck, pulling her pendant up to the light. "What this you're wearing?"

"I'm not sure," Bryony answered. "It was around my neck when they found me. As near as my mother could figure out - she taught high school science - it's a sliver of an oak leaf, set in amber - tree resin." Her voice got softer as she remembered. "My mother put it around my neck - my real mother. Isolde. She had my ring looped through it as well." She held up her hand, looking at the ring.

"And my parents found the other ring," Finn replied, holding his own hand up and twining the fingers with hers. "That's not just coincidence, love. None of it. We both deserve to know why."

"Yes, I suppose we do."

"We'll find the answers, tomorrow. But for now, let's get some rest. I'll do my best to keep your nightmares at bay."

He rolled to his side, spooning her into him. He thought she'd fallen asleep, but a few moments later, she spoke.

"This is nice."

"Yes, it is."

"I've never spent the night with someone. Not the whole night."

"Do you know...neither have I."

She looked back over her shoulder at him. "Really?"

"You don't have to be so surprised, you know. I do live with my parents."

She turned in his arms. "You live with your _parents?_"

"Of course I do. And you don't have to say it like that - it's not like I live in a one room hut. It _is_ a castle, after all," he defended.

"What do you do in your kingdom, anyway? Do you have lots of...princely duties?"

"Definitely not. I'm fairly far down in succession to the throne and I have no desire for it, I assure you."

She pushed herself up on one elbow. "So what do you do?"

"Do?"

"With your life? You just...hang around? What do you do?"

"No, of course not. I take a lot of seafaring voyages. I'm happiest when I'm out on the water."

"So you take trips on your boat?"

"Ship." He eyed her crossly. "It's a ship. And it's my father's."

"Do you explore or trade or run humanitarian missions?" She was genuinely curious.

"Sometimes I go along while my grandparents do," he offered. "And my parents and sister have taken some diplomatic journeys on behalf of the kingdom."

"So you're just kind of along for the ride."

He didn't want to answer that. Truthfully, he was growing irritated with the whole conversation, probably because half an hour ago he had her naked and partially beneath him and now she was making him sound like some kind of freeloading dandy. He did things. His life was full and rich.

Full of women and rich with rum and festivity.

He used to say that all the time, to anyone who asked what he was doing with his life. It was a grand joke and never failed to get a laugh. Suddenly, it didn't seem as funny. And who the hell was she to question the things that made up his life, anyway?

"What about you? Have you always been a...coffee wench?"

She laughed. "No, of course not. I went to college to study journalism - that's for people who like to write stories, like I do. I had to quit in my senior year, to take care of my Dad. He died three years later. I tried a few different jobs, but it's not easy to work at a desk when you can zone out anytime and get lost in a vision that might have you screaming, or shivering, or..." her eyes shifted over to him. "Doing other things."

"You took care of your father through his illness?"

"Of course I did. And when he passed, I started volunteering with hospice - they're an organization that supports people and their families during end of life issues," she explained. "I'm also a guest reader on Sunday afternoons for the children's program at the public library, and I sing holiday songs at the local senior citizen's center whenever they need me. I need to be doing something, and it's my way of giving back to the community."

Well. Now he felt worse.

"I do things to help the community," he told her. "Just last year I traveled with my family to the kingdom of Nod, after a series of fierce storms tore through their land. I helped evacuate those who wished to be relocated, and ferried supplies for the rebuild."

She smiled softly. "That must have been so rewarding."

"You know," he said, a bit surprised at himself. "It was. We made a real difference there."

He wasn't about to tell her that he'd decided to go along at the last minute, and only because of a set of twin sisters who'd just been made aware that he was seeing both of them at once. He'd found his share of friends to drink with and women to enjoy in Nod, as well, but they came at the end of a long day of working side- by-side with his family. Those weeks had ended up being some of the best of his life, now that he remembered them.

He'd just never really bothered to remember what really made them good. He stroked Bryony's arm idly as he suddenly remembered his father's words.

_Find what makes you better,_ he'd said. Words of wisdom from a man who wasted far too many years of his earlier life and didn't want the same for his son.

He didn't know if Bryony's visions spelled his doom or not. He only knew that he was meant for more, and when he was near her, that's what he felt: more.

"Finn?" Her sleepy voice drifted up to him.

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry if I was wrong about you."

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

"You weren't wrong, love. I was."


	20. The Vision

**_I want to apologize for the last update - it was riddled with typos and missing a couple of sentences at the end - apparently my final edits didn't upload properly, so you all got an earlier version (if you read it in the first few hours it was up). I've since fixed it and it looks more like something I wouldn't be cringingly embarrassed about._**

**_And by the way - the YA novel I'm peddling? The hot guy/love interest's name is Finn. And of course, there's a pirate reference in the book. Just so you know... :)_**

* * *

Finn stood at the wheel of The Jolly Roger, fighting the rapids with every ounce of strength in his arms. He could see her being tossed and thrown about the deck, and he shouted to make himself heard over the roar of the water around them.

"Bryony! Grab hold! Find something to grab hold of!"

The ship pitched violently to one side, then spun a quarter turn, broadsiding it into a rock outcropping before it swung back around. Finn wondered if that hit had caused damage, but he couldn't leave the wheel to assess it at the moment. He felt another hit on the starboard side just as he saw Bryony get thrown into the stairs to the upper deck.

She managed to work her way up to him on her hands and knees, grabbing the podium for support.

"We have to get out of here!" she shouted. "We're getting smashed to pieces!"

"Can you get to the hatch?" Finn shouted back. "I need to know if we're taking on water!"

"You want me to go below?""

"NO!" he shook his head emphatically. "Don't go down there, just look in. You don't want to get trapped if the hull is compromised!"

She gave him a thumbs up, but as she turned to make her way back down to the lower deck, a violent shudder tore through the ship, throwing them both backwards, where they fell together, with Finn on top of Bryony.

Then it all went dead calm.

The voice was cool serenity, playing on the ear in delicate ripples building to waves. Finn looked around, but could see no one, even as the voice sounded.

_The famine in the land and the poison in the sea_

_Will take the Northern Kingdom and it will cease to be_

_Death and desolation, hunger, storm and pain_

_Darkness and disease will come and misery remain_

_Where the sea turns to water and the water meets the land_

_At the time of the solstice, there the good must make its stand_

_By that which blooms within you and flows within your veins_

_Forged by magic they will conquer and peace will ever reign_

He stared down at Bryony, who had the same confused look on her face that he was sure was apparent on his own. She gave a slight shrug as the last echoes of the voice died out. The water remained calm, tugging the ship gently along.

Finn pushed himself up to his knees, but was stymied by the tangling of his neckchain with Bryony's. He gave a short laugh, then reached down to work at the knot between them, when he heard Bryony's gasp. He turned to look behind him, but had no time to react before the vines encircled him, pinning his arms, sliding around his neck and beginning to pull him backwards. They would have succeeded if it weren't for his pendant stubbornly clinging to hers. The vines appeared to have a mind of their own, snaking along the line of the chain, reaching to break the connection even as Bryony hacked and pulled at them to no avail.

The vines began to slither around their joined pendants, tightening, when suddenly a blinding flash of light exploded from the knot of vines and chain, burning the tendrils and turning them to charred flyaways, floating on a strong gust of wind. Finn grabbed at his neck, feeling the fire spread up the vines, burning his skin but removing their choking presence so he could finally breath again.

He coughed, hard.

Then he coughed again, dragging in great, sucking lungfuls of air.

"Bloody hell," he exclaimed. "What the devil - ?"

He opened his eyes, and could just make out Bryony, as she sat up in bed, fumbling for the light. It came on with a click and he threw an arm over his eyes to dim it out.

"Good God, that's bright," he griped. He let out a long whoosh of air, and sat back against the headboard. He glanced over at Bryony, who had yet to speak. Truthfully, she looked more than a little startled.

"Sorry, love," he apologized. "I had a rather vivid dream, that ended with my near-death." He reached a hand out to pull her back down into him, but she remained sitting on her knees, looking at him like he'd grown a second nose.

"Is my hair mussed up?" He reached up, smoothing it out. "Most women like it a bit mussed, but it can upon occasion take on a life of it's own."

"You were dreaming?"

"Apparently so. Did I wake you?"

"No." She leaned back on one arm. "Were you - " She paused. "No, never mind. That's crazy."

"What?" He was curious now. He reached out, taking her hand. "Tell me."

"Were you on a ship? With me?"

He looked at her, suddenly wary. "Yes. Fighting a strong current. Rapids of some sort. There were rocks, and I could see a bank, so we were on a river."

She pulled herself up to a fully seated position, pulling her legs into a ball in front of her. "Were there vines?"

"Yes." He sat very still, unsure of what he had just experienced, but not liking it one bit. "What the devil happened?"

"I think you may have shared my dream with me. But it was more than a dream. It felt like a vision."

Finn looked completely taken aback. "I'm getting your bloody visions now? How is that possible?"

"I don't know," she snapped defensively. "And stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm a freak! I can't help it," she said, miserably.

Finn let out a calming breath. "Let's just take this one piece of the puzzle at a time. For whatever reason, I was privy to your vision, is that correct?"

Bryony nodded. "Not just privy. Part of it. Only this time, you didn't die."

"Beg pardon?"

"You didn't die," she said, with growing wonder. "Every time I've dreamed you in the past, the vines killed you. Every single time. But this time, you broke them. Burned them. How?"

"I don't know." Finn fought to remember the dream. "Our pendants - they got stuck."

"Yes, I remember."

"And when the vines touched them, they...exploded. Caught fire. And there was a voice..." Finn struggled to remember it. "Something about the Northern Kingdom."

"I remember what it said."

Finn arched a brow. "All of it?"

"Yes. Every word. That's how I know it was a vision."

"Well," said Finn. "Let's have it, then."

Bryony cleared her throat delicately and repeated the words:

_The famine in the land and the poison in the sea_

_Will take the Northern Kingdom and it will cease to be_

_Death and desolation, hunger, storm and pain_

_Darkness and disease will come and misery remain_

_Where the sea turns to water and the water meets the land_

_At the time of the solstice, there the good must make its stand_

_By that which blooms within you and flows within your veins_

_Forged by magic they will conquer and peace will ever reign_

"And that's supposed to mean...what, exactly?" Finn asked.

Bryony shook her head. "I don't know. It's the first time I've ever heard it." She leaned back against the headboard next to him. "Finn, I think we may have found it."

"What?"

"The way to keep you from dying. We just need to understand it," she said, a bit frustrated. "I can have the clearest visions, but interpreting them is something I'm not very good at, I'm afraid."

"All the more reason we need to get you home," Finn said. "I know someone who's a master at interpreting prophecy."

"Rumpelstiltskin?"

"Aye. My aunt Regina might be of some help to us as well." He turned to Bryony, grasping her hands in his. "I have resources, love, powerful resources. We need to figure this out and the only way to do that is to go home."

Bryony was suddenly really afraid. "Do you promise you'll stay with me? You won't take off and leave me over there?"

He reached out, lifting her chin with his fingers. "You listen to me, love. I'm not leaving your side."

"At least until this is all...finished...or whatever," Bryony qualified.

He raised a brow, and his smile never faltered.

"I'm not leaving your side."

He slid down on the bed, pulling her down and across his chest, and she realized as she started to doze off, that for the first time in her life, she wasn't afraid to go to sleep.


	21. Change of Subject

Bryony discovered a great little hole-in-the-wall kind of restaurant with a decent-sized menu just a block away from the hotel the next morning, and Finn took her recommendation, ordering and trying Huevos Rancheros for the first time.

"This is food of the Gods," he marveled, smacking his lips appreciatively. "I have to thank you, love. I'd forgotten how much I love salsa."

"Salsa's easy to make, too," Bryony offered. "Really, you could do it at home if you have a reasonable garden."

"Not a lot of gardening done on a ship, I'm afraid," he answered her, reaching his fork over to steal a bite of her pancakes. Bryony gave him a dirty look and smacked the back of his hand with her fork.

"Do you mind? Does your mother know you have these manners?"

"My mother is the biggest food thief in the family and that's a fact," he said, smiling. "There isn't a plate that's safe from her at mealtime."

Bryony pushed her pancakes around on her plate, soaking up the little puddles of syrup. "So...what are they like, anyway - your grandparents? Snow White and Prince Charming?"

Finn gave a little chuckle. "It's odd to hear you call them that. 'Prince Charming' is a pet name that only my grandmother uses. The rest of the kingdom knows him as King David now."

"King David?"

"That's his proper name. And he and my Grandmother assumed the throne a few years before I was born, turning him from a Prince into a King."

"Are they anything like the stories?" She asked. "He's supposed to be gallant and noble and perfect and she's supposed to be the fairest of them all."

Finn smiled, taking a drink of his coffee. "You've got my grandfather pegged, I'll give you that. My grandmother is a lovely woman, but it's more than a physical beauty with her. She's just blazingly good. On anyone but her, it would be quite off-putting, really."

"And your father's Captain Hook?"

"He was. Doesn't use that moniker much anymore. He's Sir Killian Jones now, peer of the realm and perfectly respectable man. But don't call him that to his face."

Bryony sat back in her chair, completely stuffed. She pushed her half-finished pile of pancakes away and reached for her coffee. Finn grabbed her plate and immediately maneuvered it to his side of the table.

"You're not going to let these go to waste, are you love?"

"Keep that up and we're going to have to roll you home." Bryony quipped.

"I eat like this all the time," he said, dismissing her with a wave as he stuffed a forkful in his mouth. "We Jones men have ways of working off the excess." He gave her a smile with a devilish gleam in his eye that literally made her stop breathing.

The look he gave her said he knew it, too. He took a swig of his coffee, then looked at her quizzically. "Why are you asking me about my family" he asked. "You've been dreaming about them and writing all their stories down. In some ways, you know them all better than I do."

"Not really," Bryony smiled. "I'm sure the visions lose something in translation. And it's not like I've grown up with them."

He swirled his coffee in his cup. "No, I'm quite serious. Some of the stories in your journals were quite detailed, not just about events that happened, but also their thoughts and their motivations. Whenever we had family story night, a lot of that was edited out of the versions they shared with us."

"Us?"

"My sister and my uncles and aunt. We grew up together."

"Wait - your uncles and aunt are your age?" Bryony asked, confused.

"It's a long story..." he shrugged. "There was a curse that froze my grandparents for nearly thirty years. They're the same age as my parents. Or should I say, they appear to be. Or they appear to be the same age my father appears to be."

Bryony raised her brows, totally lost.

"As I said...long story." He pushed the now empty plate away. "Are you ready to go, love?"

"We need to go back to Philly first," Bryony said. "I have to give Lydia the keys to my house so she can water my plants. And I have to pay a few bills so they don't shut off all my utilities while I'm gone."

She could see Finn didn't care for that idea at all, but he gave her a reluctant nod. "Very well. We'll take a train back, then you take care of your errands and pack a small bag. We leave by nightfall."

She arched a brow. "We leave when I say we're ready to leave."

He gave her an irritated look. "I can throw you over my shoulder and be done with it, you know."

"You'll get your ass kicked if you do."

He tossed his napkin down on the table, along with a few dollars to cover the tip. "Come on." It amazed him how quickly he could go from wanting to kiss her to wanting to strangle her. She was such a little spitfire.

He let her precede him out the door, and a memory floated into his head. _You could do worse than to find a woman who gives as good as she gets, Finn. _He had been standing at Granny's graveside, barely sixteen, when his father had shared that gem. Wouldn't his father be laughing now if he could see the state Bryony had him in. Come to think of it, his mother had more than once wished a woman on him who'd put him in his place.

Maybe Bryony was the result of some sort of curse his parents had unknowingly laid upon him. Wouldn't that be just his turn of fortune.

The thing was, his parents were, unfortunately, frequently right.

And he had a feeling that was simultaneously sinking and elated, that they were both right in wishing her for him.

###

"I wish I knew how Finn was doing," Emma said, leaning her head on her husband's shoulder as they laid in bed together.

"I wish he'd just come home," Killian added.

"You're the one who's been telling me he'll be back when he's ready," Emma complained.

"And so he will, love." Killian leaned down, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "I just want him to come home because you're going to drive me crazy worrying about him. He's only been gone a matter of days, after all. He's taken sea voyages that were much longer than this."

"Yeah, but they were in _our_ realm." Emma pointed out.

Killian gave a chuckle.

"What?"

"It wasn't that long ago that you were fighting all of us to stay in that other realm, and now you're worried about a grown man - a Jones man, I might add - venturing out into it."

"Okay, okay," she said, poking him in the ribs. "I get the irony." She tilted her head up so she could look at him. "Do you think he's found her?"

"Oh, I'm sure of it. He had the compass to guide him, after all. Plus his own good instincts. He's no doubt located the girl, and he'll be home when the time is right."

"When the time is _right_? The time is right ten minutes after he gets there." She drummed her fingers against his belly. "What's keeping him?"

Killian had had enough. He pulled her down even as he rolled himself on top of her. Since she was still naked from their exertions earlier in the evening, there wasn't much to stop him from getting a knee between her legs and moving against her, rubbing suggestively.

"I told you, love," he said, digging his fingers into her hips as he positioned her to receive him. "A Jones man is never done until he's good and ready to be done." He slid deeply into her, and Emma sighed, arching her back.

"Now let's get your mind back to where it ought to be..." he murmured, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Emma gave it up, knowing she was still a sucker for the way he changed the subject. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, and true to his word, he wasn't done with her until he was _good_ and done with her. And then she slept like the dead, nestled in his arms.

Neither one of them lost a moment of their slumber to the shadow that rippled across the water outside the cabin window, then paused to look in.


	22. Oasis

**Well, hello there readers. Once again, thank you all so much for taking the time to review and comment. Your comments make me better and give me such a shot in the arm that really revs up my brain and makes me want to write more. SOOOO appreciated. And to those of you who've bought my books (and reviewed them) on Smashwords, a double thank you. I am working on book three of the Seeder trilogy now and will hopefully have it out next month.**

**In the meantime, I've been woefully neglecting Finn and Bryony. Let's catch up, shall we?**

* * *

The train pulled into 30th Street Station in Philadelphia shortly before noon, and Bryony elected to walk rather than hop another train to get them home. Her parents brownstone had been paid off at the time of her father's death, and her father had left her his pension benefits and healthy chain of investments in his portfolio. She could honestly get by without having to work again, if she didn't want to. She could have sat in her comfy chair on the roof, writing her stories until she was old and gray.

If only she could be content with that. As much as she loved the writing of them, her stories were a curse in an of themselves, teasing her with visions of far-off lands and exciting lives that she could never witness or live.

Until now, anyway. If she was brave enough to do this. Could she slice herself off at the roots and just...go?

She opened the front door to the brownstone, taking instant comfort in her home. It was good to be back. It smelled right and it felt right and she stood for a moment in the entryway just feeling it all sink into her bones.

"You look glad to be home," Finn remarked, laying his satchel down in the entryway.

"I am. I always feel safest at home."

"Safest?" Finn stepped toward her, glancing around to try to determine the threat. "Who's threatening you?"

"No who," she explained. "What. I'm a ticking bomb. I can slip into visions at any time. My parents had me evaluated at Children's Hospital pretty early on. I was on a ton of different medications when I was a kid. They even diagnosed me as epileptic at some point and gave me an official disability, which turned out to be a good thing. I get my father's university pension because of it. That's come in handy because I can't really work a lot - not like this."

Finn looked at her in dismay. "They consider your visions to be a disability here? Really?"

"People don't have magical gifts here, Finn. They're just thought to be crazy. Or con artists."

"Con artists?"

"Charlatans," she clarified. "Frauds and phonies who take your money."

"But your gift could help so many," Finn said, confused. "I don't understand. In my realm, you would be sought out. You'd be fought over by warring kingdoms. You might even be kidnapped if you weren't careful. A seer is a valuable thing."

Bryony tossed her bag down on the floor next to Finn's. "Good to know I'll be worth something to you." She turned and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses before she headed up the stairs. Finn's troubled stare followed her, before he started up the stairs behind her.

"Wait a moment," he said. "Where are you going?"

"If it's all the same to you," she said tiredly, "I need a few minutes in my oasis with a glass of wine. It's been a weird couple of days."

Finn quirked a brow. "Your oasis?"

Bryony climbed the last flight of stairs, and walked over to a ladder at the end of the hall. She stepped up, unfastening the latch on the trap door above it and climbing out onto the roof. Finn pulled himself up the ladder after her.

Then he froze as he took in the sight around him.

Oasis, indeed.

It was green everywhere. If he hadn't known he was on a rooftop in the middle of a busy, dirty city, he never would have believed it. Trellises lined the roof on all four sides and they were green with leaves and blooming with large, hanging flowers. Trees and plants and shrubs were everywhere in pots and on hangers and lining shelves and steps at varying intervals, giving the impression of far greater space than there probably was. And the smells - the flowers blended and complimented each other as you moved among them, at no time feeling overpowering in any way.

Bryony sank down into an overstuffed wicker loveseat, placing the wine on a low table in front of her and uncorking it.

"Do you want a glass?" She asked. "Or do you only drink rum and coffee?"

Finn finally managed to close his open mouth and tear his eyes away from the garden all around him. "I could use a glass," he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. He walked over and sat down carefully on the loveseat next to her, accepting the glass of wine she handed him.

"Bryony...this is amazing. Truly." He glanced around again, then closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

She tried not to look as pleased as his words made her feel. "Thanks. It was a lot of work."

"You have a real talent, love. I've seen castle grounds that don't even come close to the beauty of this."

"You should be here at night," She said, smiling. "When the breeze catches everything, and the stars are out, it just smells and feels wonderful. I sit up here with just the candles in the hanging globes lit and I write sometimes. Or just listen to music. I even spread a blanket out sometimes if the weather is warm so I can sleep out here on the grass."

That's when Finn finally looked down to realize his feet were resting on grass. Real grass.

"How is that possible?" he asked, looking down. "How can grass grow on stone and brick?"

"There's eighteen inches of topsoil under it. It took me forever to get it all brought up here, and I'm probably breaking some building code doing it, but it's a concrete roof - I'm sure it can take the weight. I seeded over it, and with the extra shade from the trellises and trees to help hold in the moisture, it's worked so far."

She finished off her glass of wine, putting it back down on the table.

"So..." she said, facing Finn. "I need to go down to the bank and get some things taken care of - bills and things. Then I have to write some letters and post them. Then I need to visit Lydia and Anna. Once all that's done, I can pack and we can be on our way. Most of that should be done by evening, like you asked, especially since most of the businesses I need to visit close at five."

She uncurled her legs out from under her, then stood up and stretched, breathing deeply. "Mmmmm. I'm going to miss this." She looked down at Finn. "Is it green where you live?"

"A bit." Finn smiled. "I think you'll like it there." He reached over, setting his wine glass down on the table next to hers.

"Well, I guess I'd better get a move on," she said as Finn got slowly to his feet.

"Meet me here, at nightfall," he said, taking her hand.

"We're leaving from here?"

He stepped in, and she could feel the heat of his body as it brushed against hers. His hand reached out, cupping her face, and he ran his thumb back and forth along her jaw.

"We leave in the morning," he said. "Tonight, you're going to meet me here, and we're going to spread that blanket, and I'm going to make love to you on the soft grass, under a sky full of stars."

She tried very hard to find the words to properly frame her objection. She took a deep breath, wet her lips, and said what she had to say.

"I'll be here."

Then she slid her arms around his neck, and kissed him.


	23. Best Laid Plans

Bryony had tried her best not to think about Finn as she took care of everything she had to take care of. She finished all of her errands, and even took the time to sit for a full pedicure, opting for a clear coat, since she wasn't sure if colored nails would go over well in an enchanted land. She'd stopped and bought herself a slinky new dress, and a new perfume with overtones of cedar and something akin to fresh, salty air. It made her think of Finn the second she lifted the stopper on the bottle.

And now it was twilight. The sun was going down, and the stars were coming out, and she was going to climb those stairs, step into Finn's arms, and finally, finally, stop fighting against the inevitable.

A tremor raced along her limbs, sending delicious sensations all over her body. She knew exactly what he'd feel like, how he'd move, the weight of his body pressing her into the blanket beneath them. She knew the way his powerful arms would tighten and his face would look when he reached his peak inside her. She knew it all.

This might not be wise, it might not be safe, but she was ready.

She took a deep breath, gripped the doorknob, and stepped into her house. It only took a moment before she realized something was terribly wrong.

"Finn?" She called out.

A sound, like someone in pain, reached her ears. She took the stairs two at a time, until she stood outside the upstairs bathroom.

The sound came again, a definite moan of pain.

Bryony pounded on the door. "Finn! Are you all right?"

Another moan. "Bloody hell," he answered her. "They've killed me."

Bryony looked around frantically, but there was no one in sight. "Who? Finn, open the door!"

"Bloody hell!" he repeated again. There was a pause, then he groaned. "Go away, Bryony."

"Go away?" She was good and confused now. "Finn, if you're hurt, I can help. What happened!"

"Chinatown, that's what," he groaned again. "Oh, bloody hell. Do you have more toilet paper?"

She was starting to get the picture. "Finn, did you eat something in Chinatown today?"

"Something called Peking Duck," he groaned. "I found a man who was selling them out of his conveyance."

"His _what_?"

"His van," Finn groaned again. "He's poisoned me."

She looked at the door, shaking her head in disbelief. "You ate Peking Duck out of the back of a _van_?"

"It's like fire," he groaned. "Like molten lava...oh, bloody hell..."

Bryony leaned against the door and let her head fall back against it with a thud. So much for the sky full of stars and the blanket on the grass. It looked like Finn was spending most of the evening in the bathroom.

She padded over to the linen closet in the hall, reaching in and pulling out two rolls of toilet paper. She walked back to the door, and knocked tentatively.

"Finn? I have your toilet paper."

The door opened a few inches. "Just roll it to me," he groaned. Bryony set the rolls down on the floor, rolling them one-by-one through the barely open doorway. The door shut again as soon as she pushed the second roll through.

"Leave me to die in peace," he moaned.

She bit her lip, trying not to smile until she remembered that he couldn't see her, and then she couldn't stop it. Of all the ways to screw up a torrid evening. Peking Duck from the back of a van. She started laughing, and clapped a hand over her mouth before he could hear her. Finally, she got control of herself, clearing her throat and knocking lightly on the door again.

"Finn? Do you want some Imodium?"

"What the devil is that?"

"Uh...an elixir. Medicine. It'll help, I promise."

Another long, tortured groan sounded, and she leaned in to the door. "I'll be right back. Hang on."

She ran downstairs to the kitchen, pulling a basket down from one of the cupboards and rooting through it until she found what she was looking for. She headed back up the stairs, gave the medicine a shake, and poured the proper dosage.

"Finn? Open the door, I've got your medicine."

A low grunt was the only response, then a shuffling sound. The door opened an inch or two, and Finn's shaking, clammy hand reached around it for the cup of medicine. She handed it over.

"Drink this, and you should be feeling better soon," she said, sympathetically. "I'll just...uh...I'll be out here. If you need me."

She backed away from the door, making her way back to the bedroom, since it was fairly close to the bathroom. She hung her dress up in the closet, slipped on some sweatpants and a tee shirt, and settled in with a good book. Half an hour later, she heard the shower start, so she made her way down the kitchen, boiled some water, poured two big mugs of tea and made herself a sandwich and Finn a plate of toast. She loaded everything onto a tray and by the time she reached the bedroom Finn was toweling off.

He was completely naked and he was toweling off.

Bryony averted her eyes, setting the tray down on dresser opposite the bed and keeping herself busy preparing the tea.

"I wasn't sure how you liked your tea," she said. "I've got lemon, honey, sugar, and cream. Which do you prefer?"

"Honey would be fine, thank you," he mumbled.

"And I brought you toast. I know you probably don't feel like eating, but having something bland on your stomach really will help."

"That will be fine, thanks," he said quietly.

She finally risked a look back at him and was relieved to see him sitting on the bed with a towel wrapped around his hips. He looked really, really uncomfortable. Embarrassed even. If she didn't feel so sorry for him, she'd be marveling at the sight of an embarrassed Finn. She would have bet that wasn't even possible, but apparently, it was.

She walked over, setting the tray down on the bed and sitting down next to it on the other side. Finn reached tentatively for his mug and a slice of toast, while Bryony pulled her legs up under her and grabbed her sandwich.

"I had planned to cook you an amazing dinner, but I see that's not a great idea," she said sympathetically. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you," he reddened again. "I'm not quite used to all the delicacies of this realm, it seems."

Bryony raised a brow. Peking Duck from a _van?_ That's what he called a delicacy? She fought it, but she couldn't stop the smile from tugging at her lips.

"At least tell me it was worth it," she said.

He gave her a stony look in return and she cracked. The laughter bubbled up inside her and spilled over until she fell back on the bed, nearly tipping over the tray with the tea on it before Finn grabbed it and transferred it to the sidetable. Bryony couldn't help herself. She laughed and laughed and laughed.

Finn gave her a dark look, laden with the promise of retribution, before his face split into a grin.

"Good God, it was bloody awful. Coming in _and_ going out," he chuckled. "I may have lost years from my lifespan."

"You certainly know how to make an impression," she said, wiping her eyes. He layed down across the bed next to her, propping himself on one elbow.

"Find this amusing, do you?" He arched a brow and she made a valiant effort to purse her lips.

"Yes," she admitted. "Sorry."

"I suppose I deserve it. This definitely wasn't my finest hour." He reached over, rubbing his hand slowly across Bryony's stomach. She brought her eyes up to his, trying hard not to let him see the effect his touch had on her.

"I'm sorry, love. Tonight was supposed to go very differently." His hand continued to move on her stomach, curving around to her waist and then back again to center, causing her muscles to tighten in response.

"It's all right," she said. "It's probably best that we didn't, anyway."

His hand stilled. "What the devil is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," she said, putting her hand over his, "That it's probably best that we keep this from going too far between us. We're from two different worlds, Finn."

"No we're not, love. You're from my world - and you know it."

He reached across, gathering her closer. "And it's already gone too far." He leaned in, kissing her thoroughly, and she brought her hands up in a feeble protest that quickly dissolved into nothing as her fingers curled around his shoulders. Just when she thought he was going to pull away, he shifted more completely on top of her, and the kiss deepened as his tongue stroked and circled with hers. His hands moved slowly and with practiced ease over the rest of her body, lingering on her breasts, her waist, the curve of her thigh, until she was moving beneath him and pushing into his fingers wherever they traveled.

When Finn finally pulled away, she was breathing hard and so was he, his breath fanning her lips as his mouth hovered just above hers.

"As much as I want to finish this, love," he murmured, "Right now is not the best time to do so. I'd hate to have anything distract me at a crucial moment, and until I'm sure of the state of my innards, it's best that we leave it as this. For now."

Bryony nodded. "Yeah," she agreed breathlessly. "You're probably right. You should get some rest and you'll feel a lot better by morning."

He sat up, then gained his feet. "Were you able to get everything done that you needed to do?"

"Yes. Everything's done."

"Good." He reached down for her hand, pulling her to her feet next to him. "Now pack a bag. We're leaving."

"What?" she spluttered. "Now?"

"Now."

"But...but you're not feeling well."

"I can remedy that easily enough once we're back, so the sooner we get there, the better." He started for the doorway, then turned to address her once more. "I'm going to get dressed and grab my satchel. I'll meet you on the roof in fifteen minutes." He strode out of the room, and Bryony stood in stunned silence before springing into action.

_Fifteen minutes? _Did he honestly think she could be ready in fifteen minutes for a journey like this? Really?

Exactly fourteen minutes and twenty seconds later, Bryony pushed open the hatch and stepped out onto the roof. She walked over to Finn, glancing around apprehensively. She was wearing her sturdiest jeans, black leather calf-boots, and a long-sleeved cotton peasant blouse - the closest she could get to fairytale clothing.

"Will this work?" she asked, gesturing down at herself. "I have a coat, too, just in case."

"You'll need it when we get to your kingdom, but for right now, you should be fine." He extended a hand to her and she looked at it, but didn't move.

"We're not going to...my kingdom?" she asked, confused.

"No. We're going to mine. We need to talk to Rumpelstiltskin, and my parents are there, as well. I'll need a ship, and we'll need provisions, judging from the look of the village I left before coming here." He looked at the messenger bag she had slung over her shoulder. "Is that everything, then?"

Bryony nodded, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue in a nervous gesture.

Finn reached out to take her hand. "It'll be fine, love. I'll be right here with you, and we're going to my home. You're going to love it, I promise."

Bryony took one last, long look around.

"Let's go," she said. "Do it now, Finn, before I change my mind."

Finn didn't hesitate. He tossed the bean that had been in his other hand, and a portal began to form, it's pulsing maw giving off a flashing yellowish-green light. Bryony's eyes grew wide, but Finn squeezed her hand tightly.

"It's now or never, love," he said, over the sound of the vortex. "Take a leap of faith."

Bryony closed her eyes, and they jumped.

They landed in the courtyard, and a startled shriek sounded just as they hit the ground. Finn rolled to his feet, extending a hand down to Bryony, who stood slowly, brushing herself off. Her mouth made a perfect "o" as she gazed up at the turrets and the castle walls.

Finn shot her a lopsided grin. "There. You see, love? Nothing to worry about. No ugly surprises here."

"Finn?" An excited voice sounded behind him, and the grin froze on Finn's face as he turned around.

"Hello, Marianne."


	24. Introductions

Bryony was finally able to tear her eyes away from the turrets and parapets of the castle walls, and take a look at the rest of what was around her. A few people were milling about in the courtyard, and one of them was the young woman who had thrown herself into Finn's arms and now had him in a ferocious strangle-hold that he was trying to delicately disengage himself from.

"Finn! You're back!" Marianne wailed, refusing to be budged. "I've been waiting for days! Your grandparents tried to tell me they didn't know when you'd return, but I knew - I just _knew_ - you couldn't bear to be parted from me." She pulled back to look at him, misty-eyed. "Not after all we've shared."

Bryony took an uncomfortable step back. "Ummmm...maybe I'll just go wait inside."

"No, wait - " Finn said. "Bryony - "

"Go ahead, dear," Marianne said, not bothering to look away from the face of her beloved. "Finn and I need some time alone together."

"O...kay then." Bryony turned slowly and started walking for the nearest doorway.

"Wait for me in the hall, Bryony," Finn called after her. "This will only take a moment."

Bryony could hear the young woman screeching behind her as she pulled the door open. She certainly didn't sound like she was willing to be condensed into a moment. Obviously, Finn forgot to mention an important detail in their previous discussions. She stepped into what looked to be an enormous great hall, with colorful tapestries lining the walls and a very large table set toward one end, probably closer to the kitchen.

There was a huge hearth set into one wall, with a seating area in front of it, and perched on one of the low couches there was a middle-aged couple, and a girl who didn't look much older than Bryony.

She made her way over toward them, and the younger woman looked up at her with questioning eyes.

"Hello..." Bryony said. "Sorry to interrupt, but Finn told me to wait in here."

"Finn! He's back!" The young woman leapt to her feet, her face blazing with joy. "He's all right!"

Oh, no. Not another one. Bryony pasted on a smile. "He's a bit busy at the moment - someone needed to have a word with him. He said he'd be right in."

The other man and woman had stood at the same time as the younger one, and now they were all looking at her with open curiosity. Bryony finally took a moment and looked - really looked - at all of them, and then she let out a gasp. They might be slightly older, but they'd aged remarkably well. Holy cow. She was standing in front of Snow White and Prince Charming. Her gaze shifted to the girl with the amazing blue eyes, and she couldn't help but smile. So this was Meriel. My God, she was beautiful. And now that she was quirking that brow, Bryony saw the resemblance to Finn. They obviously both got the benefit of their parent's good genes.

And they were real. They were real and the castle was real and it was all really real.

"I - I need to sit down," Bryony said, sitting abruptly on the other end of the couch that Meriel had just vacated.

"Are you all right?" Snow asked, clearly concerned. "We can get you some water."

"No, no it's fine," Bryony said. "I just need to let this all sink in."

"You're her," David said, his eyes registering with recognition. "You're the girl Finn went to find."

Bryony nodded, still trying to get a grip on the fact that she was sitting here with Snow White and her prince. Amazing.

"How did you figure that out?" Meriel asked.

"Her clothes," Snow interjected. "She's from Storybrooke's realm. She's wearing blue jeans." She smiled kindly at Bryony. "I'm Snow White. This is my husband, David, and my granddaughter, Meriel."

Bryony cleared her throat nervously. "I'm Bryony."

"Bryony? Like the flowering vine?" Snow asked.

Bryony smiled, remembering. "Yes, my mother was a high school science teacher. She had a fondness for botany."

Snow returned her smile. "I was a teacher once, too. Elementary school."

"And Finn found you," Meriel said, looking at her with a little too much scrutiny to be comfortable. "How long before you were completely under his spell?" Meriel asked, good naturedly.

"Ummm..." Bryony flushed. "He only just convinced me to come back here with him."

"You had to be convinced?" David looked confused, but Snow reached over, patting his leg.

"David, of course she did. She didn't know Finn - and being told you can travel to a magical realm probably sounded crazy to her." She turned to look at Bryony. "Am I right?"

Bryony nodded. "Yes, that's pretty much it."

Meriel gave her a wicked grin. "Well, I'm glad you weren't instantly swayed by his pretty face. He relies on it far too much. I'll wager he tried to charm you from the second he saw you, from the looks of you."

"From the looks of me?" Bryony's brow creased. "No, there wasn't a lot of time for charm, unfortunately. I was too busy flipping him over my shoulder."

"You what?" Came three voices all at once. Then Meriel said "I wasn't insinuating that you looked weak. I meant only that you're bloody beautiful, and Finn would have automatically tried to flirt with you."

"That probably happened after she flipped him over her shoulder," Snow said with an impish grin. "Right?"

"Uh...no. I knocked his legs out from under him, then I flipped him again and I finally threatened to crush his larynx. Once he realized he couldn't just grab me and go, he sort of...wore me down."

Three identical, stunned faces were staring back at her so intensely that Bryony felt uncomfortable.

"What?" she asked.

They were spared from answering her by the door flying open with such force it ricocheted off the wall and bounced back. A sobbing young woman came flying through, then pounded up the stairs and out of sight.

Finn entered behind her a moment later, looking more than a little embarrassed.

Snow closed her eyes briefly. "How bad was it this time, Finn?"

"It's good to see you, too," Finn said, leaning down to kiss his grandmother's cheek. He straightened back up, rubbing his ear. "Marianne is a bit put out."

"Finn..." David said, his eyes showing a clear warning. "Princess Marianne has been here for three days under the impression that you'd want her here waiting. She also has her father's blessing to marry you - as she's made everyone aware. Every day."

"Every hour," Meriel added, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't ask her to marry me!" Finn exploded. "Bloody hell. I didn't ask her to come back here, either."

David sat back, raising his eyebrows. "How many times have we warned you, Finn?"

Snow put her hand on her husband's arm. "I'll go talk to her." She turned to look at Finn and tried her best to look stern. It didn't work. "What would you like me to tell her?"

Finn shook his head. "Nothing left to tell her. But you might do me a favor and point her at William instead."

"Are you crazy?" Both his grandparents echoed the sentiment, while Meriel settled for shaking her head vehemently 'no'. Bryony remained silent, staring at the floor.

Finn rocked back and forth on his heels. "So...I gather you've all made your introductions?" He gave an overly bright smile that had his sister rolling her eyes. Bryony looked up at him and gave a nod.

He gave her a nudge. "Not that you needed an introduction, right love?"

Bryony flushed, wishing he hadn't brought it up. She'd only just met them, and he was making sure they knew she was a freak right off the bat. Nice. She shot Finn an angry look.

"Is there someplace I can go to freshen up?" Bryony asked, standing up abruptly.

"I can have a room prepared for you," Snow offered, then hastily added, "unless you're staying with Finn, of course."

Bryony arched a brow. "I'd like my own room, thanks."

Finn sidled into Bryony so he could say in a not-quite-low-enough voice, "Are you sure about that, love?" He started to reach out and touch her hair when Bryony's hand shot out, grasping his wrist and bending his hand into an odd position.

"Touch me again, and I snap it," she said with a forced smile.

"Don't be jealous, love," he started to say, only to inhale sharply as she pushed in and twisted, sending excruciating pain rocketing up his arm. He pulled away, shaking his wrist.

"We'll talk later, Bryony," he promised.

"I'll show you to your room," Snow offered hastily. "If you'd like to come with me."

Bryony gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you." She turned to Meriel and David. "It was nice meeting you."

"You, too," David replied.

"The pleasure was ours," Meriel said with a barely suppressed smile. "Sleep well." She raised an eyebrow toward her grandfather, who raised two back at her as Bryony turned to go. Once she was out of earshot, Meriel sank down into the couch and let the laughter take over.

"Oh, that was wonderful," she said, laughing hard. "Just wonderful!"

"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it," David said, completely awestruck.

Finn threw himself down on the couch next to his sister, shooting her a thoroughly dirty look. "She's just angry because Marianne made a spectacle of herself, that's all."

Meriel and her grandfather shot each other a look that Finn didn't miss. "What?" he said irritably.

"Did she really knock you down?" Meriel asked.

"She _told_ you that?" Finn was completely taken aback. "Yes," he grumbled. "She surprised me."

"Three times?" David asked with a smile he didn't even try to hide.

"She seems fairly lethal." Meriel added.

Finn gave her a dark look. "You have _no_ idea." He glanced around the hall, then back at his sister. "Where have our parents run off to?"

"They're still in the Northern Kingdom," David replied. "We just received a message from them two days ago. They decided to stay until you returned. They're gathering all the information they can find, and they wanted to know more about your great-grandmother."

"The Naiad?"

"No, Snow's mother, Eva. She was originally from the Northern Kingdom. Apparently, there's a link between our family, and the current situation."

Finn rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Interesting, but I can't say that I'm surprised. The more I hear, the more things there are to tie the both of us to the Northern Kingdom."

"You and Bryony?" David asked. "What's her connection?"

"Well, we know she was born there, and according to her, her parents were part of a legendary love story, at least in the telling of it that exists in her realm. Their names were Tristan and Isolde."

A gasp came from behind him as Snow returned, taking a seat. "Tristan and Isolde? Really?"

"You know them?" Finn asked.

"No, not personally," Snow answered. "But she's right. It's a precursor to Romeo and Juliet, and one of the strongest tales of enduring love ever written. Legend has it that even death couldn't part them. They turned into plants and twined around each other at their gravesite."

"Plants?" Finn leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, she turned into a bush...a rose bush, if I remember correctly," Snow paused, thinking, "And he became a vine, I think. One that circled and twined within her branches."

Finn sat very still, remembering the odd way the vine bent the bush over to make the portal that he stepped through. What kind of magic turns someone into a plant? He wondered what it was Bryony saw in her visions about all of that. She said she'd seen her own birth - had she seen the bush and the vine, as well? He let out a frustrated sigh. He needed to go and talk to her, but he'd wager that she'd toss him on his arse right now if he did. It was probably best to let her calm down before he visited her again. He needed to get her back to where they were before they left.

Speaking of which...his stomach had just rumbled ominously, causing Meriel to give him an uneasy look. He reached down, putting his hand on his stomach and concentrating as he rubbed in a slow circle. A purple glow pulsed beneath his fingertips, and a moment later, he sighed with relief.

"There. Much better."

"Were you ill?" Snow asked.

"Something I ate." He grumped. "That seemed to resolve the situation."

"True love," Snow murmured, then she turned to look at her husband. "David...true love."

He nodded. "I see what you mean."

Finn looked at his sister, who shrugged in response.

"I was just wondering," Snow explained. "We know you two have magic because you're second generation true love, but if Bryony's parents were Tristan and Isolde, she was the product of True Love as well."

"And...?" Meriel asked.

Snow looked thoughtful. "It just makes me wonder, that's all." She gave a delicate shrug.

"Tomorrow morning, I'm taking Bryony to see Rumpelstiltskin," Finn told them. "I think he might help us with some of the mystery that's surrounding all of this."

"Why get Rumple involved?" David asked.

"Because she's a seer," Finn divulged. "And not only that, she's powerful enough to pull me into her visions. I experienced that last one _with_ her."

"You shared her vision?" Meriel asked? "How is that possible?"

"I've never heard of such a thing," Snow said, shaking her head thoughtfully.

"Well, if there's an authority on the subject, it's Rumple," David agreed. "I'm sure he can shed some light on the situation."

"Finn!" Kai's voice suddenly came from the stairwell, as he descended into the hall. "You're back!"

Finn stood to clap his brother-in-law on the shoulder. "I wondered where you'd taken yourself off to," he remarked. "Are the children abed?"

Kai rolled his shoulders wearily. "I just got them down." He looked over at his wife. "They're getting more and more resistant to the voice. It took nearly an hour this time. They wouldn't stop giggling." He couldn't keep the smile from his face.

"Well, then," Finn said. "I shan't waken them. I'll just take myself off and see you all in the morning." He gave them all a smile and headed for the stairs, climbing them two at a time.

Kai watched him go, shaking his head in confusion. "It's not that late. Is he all right?"

Meriel raised a brow. "Girl."

Kai nodded. "Ah. Girl."

"Not just any girl," Snow added. "The one he went to look for."

"Oh! So it wasn't Marianne?"

"No!" Three voices chorused at once.

"Her name is Bryony," Meriel supplied. "And she's beautiful."

"And apparently, she took Finn down more than once and is still resisting his charms," David chimed in. "Believe it or not."

Kai's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Really." Snow affirmed. "But here's the interesting part. I stopped in to try to smooth things over with Marianne, because we all know how Finn is about ending things. He's usually pretty vague with all of them until they just fade away and leave him alone. But this time, he was quite direct."

Meriel scrunched up her nose. "I think he probably had to be with the likes of her. Marianne may not be intelligent enough to grasp any kind of subtlety."

Snow looked around to make sure she wasn't being overheard. "He told her that while he enjoyed their time together, it was at an end because..." she leaned in, "Bryony is his destiny."

"That's not exactly news," David said. "He went to find her for that reason, didn't he?"

"David, he didn't say he was helping her find her destiny. Or she was showing him the path to his destiny. He said she_ is_ his destiny."

"Our Finn? Said that?" David reiterated.

"Our Finn." Snow smiled.

"Let's hear it for destiny," Meriel said, grinning.

And on the floor above them, Finn stood looking around the room in stunned disbelief. He'd known Bryony would probably refuse to see him after the Marianne debacle, but he was confident that he could overcome any jealousy on her part and have them back on their previous terms. He didn't think she'd resist him for long, and it did cross his mind when he found the door unlocked that she just might be setting him up for another arse beating.

But he'd never thought for a moment that she'd run again.


	25. Sown

"I still don't see why we need to visit the castle again," Killian complained. "The place is bloody cold and the old despot in charge is terrible company."

"Come on, we need to get some more answers now that we know Brandt's side of the story." Emma said, making her way past the crumbling facade near the portcullis. "Watch it," she said, pointing at the crumbling brick. "This place is hazard."

"The King has already told me all he has to tell, love. I don't know what else you think you'll get out of him. "

Emma kept walking through the courtyard, nodding at the lone guard up on the parapet before she opened the creaking, somewhat warped door and stepped into the keep.

"We're not talking to the king," she said, motioning her husband forward.

"We're not?" He looked at her, confused.

"No. We're going to look around." Emma stopped, pulling him into an alcove and lowering her voice. "If Brandt is telling the truth, that baby's mother lived here once. Maybe we can find some information about her family or something. That way if Finn brings the girl back, we can point her somewhere, at least."

"That's a very good idea," Killian said, raising a brow.

"This surprises you?" Emma gave him a look that clearly said it shouldn't.

"I just wish I'd thought of it first." He rubbed his hands up and down his arms. "Let's get it done, then. I'm freezing my arse off."

They moved deeper into the castle, checking various rooms as they went. The place was mostly deserted, and the few servants left didn't seem to care much that there were strangers roaming about. They found the King sitting in the same parlor he'd greeted them in when they'd arrived, sound asleep in his chair. Emma peeked in the door, rolled her eyes and they kept on moving.

A search of the upstairs showed several empty chambers that had been stripped down to bare walls - not even a stick of furniture remained.

"He must've sold off a lot of the furnishings," Killian said. "He's run through all the gold he'd had." He stepped out of one of the rooms and back into the hallway, only to find Emma straining with the knob on a closed door.

"This is the only closed door we've encountered," she pointed out. "My guess is there's a reason why. Give me a hand, here."

"Can't you just pick the lock?" Killian moved over to join her.

"I did. It's stuck. I think the door is warped or something." She leaned in, and Killian put his shoulder to the door next to her. Together the pushed, and the door moved in a few inches. One more good, hard shove and they had enough room to squeeze through.

"What the hell...?" Emma stepped further into the room, her mouth open wide. Killian's reaction was exactly the same.

"How the devil is this here?" He asked, his face a mask of incredulity.

All around them was green. Large pots and trays and boxes held fruit trees and bushes and flowering plants, and they lined three of the four walls. All of it appeared to be irrigated by an aqueduct system, fed from a cistern mounted outside above the balcony. The floor-to-ceiling windows let in more than enough natural light. This must have been some sort of conservatory, but it was in a wing with bedchambers, which made no sense.

"Did you notice the lock?" Emma said. "It was on the _outside_ of the door."

"Why would you want to lock someone into a conservatory?" Killian mused. "Or was it converted at a later date, perhaps?"

"I don't know," Emma said, walking through and lifting branches and leaves out of her way. "These look like they haven't been tended in years. They're all overgrown."

"I can't believe they'd just keep going by themselves, love. Someone had to have fertilized the soil and tended them to some degree. They can't just grow on their own, especially here."

Emma looked at Killian. "What did Brandt say? If it grows wild, it grows...it's only if you plant it that it won't grow."

Killian gestured to the room around him. "I'd hardly call this a natural environment. These trees and shrubs didn't plant themselves in the middle of a castle."

"So why is this exempt from the curse? Is this the King's own private stash or something?"

Killian shook his head. "That door hasn't been opened any time in recent history. I don't think he even knows it's here." He walked over, nudging a pile with his boot. "The fruit's all fallen to rot. Some of this even looks petrified."

"Killian." Emma stood in the middle of the room. "There's a bed under all that."

"What?" He moved forward, peering down at what he'd thought was some kind of built in flowerbox. He could see now that it was a bed, covered in dirt and grass, flowering in places, despite the cold outside. "Is that a table next to it?" He pushed a large swath of vines aside to uncover the wood beneath. It was a small bedside table, with a drawer.

It took a few tries and some vine ripping before he was able to move the drawer enough to get his hand inside. "Wait a minute...I've got something..." He tugged a little more, pulling loose a few sheets of yellowed, crumbling paper and a book that was badly falling apart.

"What is it?" Emma asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Some sort of journal, but there's not much here. No writing, just pictures." He held it up, turning it left and right. "I'm not even sure what I'm looking at."

"Let me see," Emma said, putting her hand out. She took the papers, leafing through them. "It looks like people, but whoever drew these wasn't much of an artist. Somebody with a bow...and that looks like a couple of fish. And over here...this is just some kind of giant tree or something."

Emma looked up from her musings. "Do you see anything else? If there's furniture, maybe there's a desk or something."

"How about a wardrobe?" Killian asked, pointing toward the far wall. "I'd hazard a guess that's what the big green lump in the corner is."

It took a lot more chopping and pulling to get the door open this time, and once they did, all that greeted them was a wardrobe full of dusty women's clothing.

"Well, someone lived here all right," Emma said, looking through the blouses and skirts hung and folded within. "This is all very royal looking. Lots of frills and expensive material." She turned back to Killian. "Nothing else to see here."

"So we may have found what used to be the queen's bedchamber," Killian reiterated.

"Or another female relative."

"Possibly," Killian said, stroking his beard. "But I don't recall meeting any other relations when we were here last. Do you?"

Emma shook her head. "No. Just Markus. And he was busy hunting down a baby." Emma folded up the pieces of paper they'd found in the drawer, stuffing them down inside the pocket of her cloak. "C'mon. Let's see what else we can find."

###

Finn stood in the middle of the room, thinking furiously. She couldn't have gone far. Why in the hell would she think she could go anywhere at all? She had no idea how to get around in this realm. He walked toward the balcony, hoping that somehow he was missing her as she stood out on it, but of course, she wasn't there. The door to the balcony had been left open, however, so she must have stepped out here.

He glanced over the wall, feeling his gut clench at the thought that she might have fallen somehow. There was no body lying anywhere that he could see, on the path around the castle wall or in the garden below the balcony.

His face broke into a slow grin as he took a deep breath, getting the scent of the flowers and plants below in full force. He leaned against the wall in relief, having a fairly good idea where she was now.

Less than two minutes later, he was down the back staircase and out the postern door that led into the garden. He stayed off the stone path to avoid making noise with his bootheels, preferring instead to walk on the grass. He'd just rounded a row of tall hedges when he saw her.

She was lying on the grass, looking up at the stars. He walked over quietly, then laid down next to her, looking up as well.

"You nearly had me rousing the stable attendants and forming a search party, you know," he commented. "You've got to stop running away."

"I ran to the backyard," she pointed out. "That's not away."

"Yes it is." He reached up, folding his hands behind his head. "You're running from me. Why else would you be out here?"

Bryony didn't answer him at first, choosing instead to just keep gazing at the sky. Finally, she said softly, "You're going to think this is crazy."

He turned his head to the side to look at her. "Try me."

"Well," she said, wetting her lips delicately with her tongue. "I was out on the balcony just taking a look around - and what I could see was beautiful, by the way - when I caught the smell of the flowers and the earth and...I can't explain it."

"You had to see it? In the dark? It couldn't wait until morning?"

"No," she said, trying to put her feelings into words. "I had to feel it. To put my hands in the dirt and feel it between my fingers. To smell it and touch it and break it in my hands." She looked over at him. "I know that's crazy."

"Not so very crazy, love. This is your homeland, after all. Your realm, I mean. Perhaps not your kingdom, but where you were meant to be."

His hand reached down, covering hers. She pulled out of his grasp, sitting up abruptly. "Finn...don't."

"What? I still owe you a night under a sky full of stars, and I'm feeling entirely better now," he informed her. "We can pick up right where we left off." He reached up, running his hand up and down her back. She shrugged his arm off and got to her feet.

"I'm going back inside," she said, brushing herself off.

Finn rolled up to his feet next to her, reaching out to take her arm. "Wait...is this about Marianne? You don't need to fret about her, love, I've taken care of the situation."

"The _situation," _she deadpanned. "So that's what she was? A situation?" She rolled her eyes at him. "Let me guess...you've got a _situation_ in every port, right?"

"What the devil is that supposed to mean?" He asked, testily.

"It's okay. I understand. And it's not like you and I had anything going, really," she shrugged.

"What?" He was starting to get really put out, and wasn't making any effort to gloss it over. "We didn't have anything going? You've been dreaming about me your whole bloody life."

She froze a second then looked at him calmly. "Just because I've had visions of you doesn't mean you or I are under any kind of obligation, here."

"_Obligation_?" Finn was good and miffed now. "I am no one's obligation, love. And neither are you. A few hours ago I could have finished what we started." He stepped in entirely too close. "And you would have let me."

The look in his green, green eyes said that he dared her to refute that. She had a feeling if she did, he'd feel entitled to prove it to her, and she couldn't let that happen. She'd let herself get carried away a little with Finn, but now she saw him in his own surroundings, and the last thing she needed was some princely Casanova twisting her up in emotional knots. Besides, they still hadn't figured out her visions, and until they did, she was most likely a danger to him.

She took two steps back, to where she wasn't feeling the heat of him through his shirt and hers anymore. It was incredibly hard. She could smell the flowers and the earth and she wanted, oh, how she wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and let him take her down to it. She had to be strong. And she had to get out of here, because the way he was looking at her said he knew she was fighting a losing battle.

"Goodnight, Finn." She turned and started walking down the path to the door, pulling it open and making her way inside to the stairs. She'd climbed about halfway up when he called her name. She paused with her hand on the railing, but didn't look back.

"What?" she answered.

"My room is next to yours, if you need me."

She closed her eyes. Of course it was. "I'll be fine, thanks," she said, starting to climb the stairs again.

"Bryony."

This time she looked over her shoulder at him. "Yes?"

He crossed his arms, looking at her intently, even while a smile teased the corner of his mouth.

"This isn't over, love. It's only just begun."


	26. Strategy

Bryony made her way down to the hall again the following morning, in search of breakfast. She'd smelled it as soon as she opened her door, and since there was a curious lack of Finn around, she decided she might as well get a move on. She arrived to find the meal being served, and the entire family, plus a few extras gathered around the large dining table.

"Oh, did we wake you?" Snow apologized. "I was going to let you sleep in - I thought you might be tired after a portal jump."

"No, it's fine," Bryony reassured them. "I was up. It smells wonderful down here."

"Please," David gestured to an empty seat. "Join us."

"Did you sleep well?" Meriel asked, passing Bryony a platter of eggs as she took the seat next to her.

"Yes, definitely. And thank you for putting me right over the garden. My room smells like flowers."

"Speaking of which..." Finn said, striding into the room. "This table could use a little brightening up." He placed a large vase of fresh-cut flowers in the middle of the table, directly in front of Bryony. "Welcome to the Enchanted Forest, love."

Bryony leaned in, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath of the large pink and white flowers. "Mmmm. They're beautiful!"

Finn reached out, toying with a lock of her hair. "They made me think of you," he said, a bit huskily.

They smiled at each other for a moment until Finn realized that the entire table was silent, and his family was staring at him as if he'd sprouted a second head from his neck. It would be comical if it weren't so off-putting. His grandfather, Meriel, and Kai all had their mouths hanging open. His grandmother was grinning ear-to-ear as she buttered her toast, humming a little song under her breath.

He gave his family a threatening look and suddenly, they were all busy pushing food around on their plates. When Meriel took a moment to introduce Bryony to Kai, David leaned in to Snow and said quietly,

"Oh, he's got it bad."

"Yes, he does," she answered with a wide smile. She reached for the basket of muffins, passing it down the table. "So, Bryony..." she began. "Tell us about yourself. Where did Finn find you?"

"Philadelphia," she answered, taking a muffin. "I've lived there all my life."

"You mentioned your mother...were you adopted?" Meriel asked, feeling instantly bad for even asking. She knew her mother's time in the foster system was far from a good memory.

"Yes, shortly after my birth. My father was a professor of literature at a local university and my mother taught in public school. She passed away when I was nine, and I lost my father just a few months ago."

Snow reached across to take Bryony's hand. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I lost my parents right around the same ages."

Bryony blinked back the sudden, unexpected tears. Snow's compassion was sincere and it was touching her in a way she hadn't planned for. "Thank you," she said. "It's been a rough year."

"And now you've been yanked into another realm to take part in an epic quest," Meriel observed. "That can't be easy."

Finn slid into the chair on the other side of Bryony, reaching across her to grab a muffin. "Maybe it's just what she needs," he replied. "A new purpose."

"I'm sorry we can't be of more help to you," Snow said. "My mother left the Northern Kingdom a long time ago, and she didn't talk about her life there, much. I've never even visited."

"The Northern Kingdom," Bryony repeated. "That's definitely where I'm from?"

"Yes." Finn answered her. "And from the looks of the place, things there are fairly dire." He looked over at his grandfather. "Did my parents say when they'd be returning?"

"I got the impression they're waiting for you," David said. "Your mother didn't want you coming back without the benefit of knowing what you're up against. She and your father are gathering all the information they can," he continued. "And apparently, they've found someone who knew the young girl that was with you, Bryony."

"Really? I'd like to meet her, maybe talk to her a little."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," David said. "But you're going to have to travel there by land. The ship is still with your parents, Finn."

Finn tried to appear as though he was inconvenienced, but the smile tugging at his lips said otherwise. "We'll have to take to the open road, love. It'll mean a few extra days, but there are some charming inns along the way."

"Finn! You're back!"

Everyone looked up as a lovely young woman with long, blonde hair and an upturned nose hurried across the hall to the table. He stood to greet her, hugging her warmly. "Good to see you, Lorelei," he said.

"I hadn't heard you were back," she said. "Where are your parents?"

"It's a long story, but they're still in the Northern Kingdom." He gestured down to Bryony. "Bryony and I will be traveling there shortly, after we've gone to see Rumpelstiltskin."

"My Grandfather? Why?" Lorelei sat down in the chair that David so graciously pulled out for her.

"Bryony is a seer," Finn replied as he slid back into his seat. "We need some help interpreting her visions."

"Really?" Lorelei looked at Bryony, wide-eyed. "I've never met a seer before - other than my Grandfather, I mean."

Bryony's face reddened and she wished the floor would swallow her up. Why the hell did he have to tell them that?

"It's not a big deal," Bryony tried to play it off.

"Of course it is," Finn said, looking at her like she was crazy. "She saw some sort of prophecy regarding the Northern Kingdom, but along with all that - she's been having dreams and visions about all of us since she was a child."

"Us?" Snow looked confused. "Why us?"

"Why indeed?" Finn remarked. "That's what we need to get to the bottom of."

Bryony stood up abruptly. "I'm going to go get some air." She gave everyone a forced smile and all but ran for the door. Finn had gotten to his feet and stood there perplexed as she made her exit.

Meriel was taken aback as well. "What's the matter? Did we offend her or something?"

"She probably thinks I'm an old flame instead of a distant relation," Lorelei reproached. "You should have introduced me, Finn."

"Isn't it obvious?" Snow asked. "Finn, she did the same thing last night, when you told us she was a seer. I think she's uncomfortable with you spreading that around."

"Uncomfortable?" Finn raised his brows. "Why?"

"Seers are important people," Kai remarked. "Her gift is rare and extremely valuable. Perhaps she's afraid that she'd be in danger, if word got around."

"Or perhaps people treated her differently because of it, in the other realm," David pointed out. "You have to remember, Finn, she comes from a world without magic."

Lorelei shook her head. "I cannot even imagine..."

"Bloody hell. I'd better go and smooth things over." Finn started to toward the door, but Lorelei stopped him.

"Wait, Finn. Let me go."

"She doesn't even know you."

"And that's why you should let me go," Lorelei pointed out. "She's going to think you're just trying to make her feel better so you can get closer to her. I'm an unbiased observer, who happens to have some magic myself. Maybe it'll make her feel less alone."

"She's right, Finn. Let Lorelei talk to her first," Snow agreed. Lorelei gave Finn a nod, and then headed for the door.

"And you'll need to apologize after," Meriel added, giving Finn a no-nonsense look.

"But - "

"Sit." Meriel pointed at his chair. "Or do I need to have Kai tell you?"

Finn narrowed his eyes at his brother-in-law. "Don't even think about it, mate."

Kai put his hands up. "Leave me out of this, you two. I've got a perfect record of avoiding your altercations and I'm not breaking it now."

"Besides," Meriel said, "Finn needs to fill us in on everything that happened." She pointed at his chair again.

Finn sat begrudgingly, his eyes still shifting over to the doorway. He shot his sister a cranky look. "Don't you have mothering to do or something? Are my niece and nephew running about like common hooligans?"

"They're in the care of their excellent babysitters," Meriel said. "So we have all the time in the world to hear your story." She gave her brother a goading smile. "And all the time in the world to hear about Bryony."

"Yes, we do," his grandmother agreed, pouring him a mug of tea. She pushed it across the table at him. "So tell us, Finn."

He took a big gulp of tea, wishing it were something more fortifying. Then his eyes shifted to the doorway once more.

"That girl has been nothing but trouble from the moment I laid eyes on her," he griped.

Four sets of very impish eyes all slid toward each other, and four sets of lips twitched in an effort to hide their very knowing grins, as Finn continued his story.

###

Bryony wandered through the flowering garden. She stopped for a moment to inhale and just feel the sun on her face. The smell of the blossoms and the hum of the insects were calming her, lulling her troubled thoughts. She felt like she'd been tossing to and fro since she got here.

Finn was determined to make her look like a freak in front of his family, and then he was determined to add her as a notch to what looked like an already crowded bedpost. The worst part was, she was considering it, even though it might mean Finn's death. He had a way of making her forget that.

And on top of all of these emotions, she had the strangest sensation ever since she got here - something in her gut that felt...right. The moment she'd stretched out on the ground last night she'd felt connected. She'd felt centered.

She sat down on under the shade of a tree, putting her back against the trunk and digging her fingers into the earth. She let out a loud sigh of contentment.

"The family can be a bit overwhelming, can't it?" Lorelei said, walking toward her. "We weren't properly introduced, I'm afraid. I'm Lorelei. Finn and I are somewhat related - we share a half brother."

"Oh." Bryony nodded. "I see."

Lorelei gestured to the patch of ground next to Bryony. "May I?"

"Go ahead." Bryony gave her an embarrassed smile. "I know I look crazy, but I just really like being outdoors."

"I don't think it's crazy at all," Lorelei said. "I'm the same way. Then again, I'm part fairy, so it's sort of in my blood to be out and about."

"You're a _fairy_?" Bryony looked at her, wide-eyed.

"Only half," Lorelei explained. "My mother is Tinkerbell, she used to be the green fairy, until she lost her wings. They let her keep her magic, though. I got some of it, plus a little more, thanks to my father."

Bryony shook her head in wonder. She was sitting next to Tinkerbell's daughter, after she just had breakfast with Snow White. How crazy was this?

"Is your father...magical?" She asked.

"No, he's quite normal," Lorelei reassured her. "But because I was conceived of true love, I've got a little extra, just like Finn and Meriel. Except they're a lot more powerful than I am."

"Finn is _magic_?" Bryony couldn't contain her curiosity.

"Yes, I suppose you wouldn't have noticed that in your realm. He and Meriel are the product of second-generation true love. It's powerful stuff. And of course, there's Kai..."

"Kai has magic?"

"He's probably the most powerful of us all - he's the son of Triton and also part Nereid." Lorelei looked at her nails. "But don't be intimidated. Being a seer is just as magical as any of us. Please don't think that we find you inferior in any way."

"I guess having a few visions makes me fit right in." Bryony replied. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

"I imagine you were a bit miffed at Finn for bragging about your talents the way he did," Lorelei commiserated. "He's not much for modesty, and he probably thought you felt the same."

Bryony gave her a tentative smile. "Yeah, I guess." She looked away. She was still trying to wrap her head around a world where fairy tales were true and magic was an everyday occurrence. This was going to take some getting used to.

"So you're Finn's mystery girl," Lorelei said, giving her an appraising look.

"Yes, I guess I am. And he's been a mystery to me, as well, until he showed up, anyway."

"I suppose it's not every day you meet your destiny," Lorelei remarked, giving her a sideways glance.

Bryony blew a stream of air up that ruffled her bangs. "You can say that again."

###

"So she was running away from you?" Meriel asked, her face showing her disbelief.

"Where have I heard that before?" David said with a smirk directed at his wife. "At least she didn't hit you in the face. With a rock."

"Really?" Snow said. "We're discussing Finn."

"Finn got knocked on his arse, and more than once. I find that more than entertaining," Kai added.

"I'm so glad I can amuse you all," Finn said testily. "D'you want to hear the rest of the story, or not?"

"I think we've got the gist of it," David said. "She's got a gift for prophecy that includes this family, for reasons yet unknown."

"Exactly. That's why I wanted us to pay Rumpelstiltskin a visit. Then we'll be on our way to join my parents. It's going to be a rough journey, though. We've got the mountains to cross, and there's just no easy way to get there. We're talking several days, even on horseback."

"Maybe not," David said, leaning back in his chair. "What about Anton? Could he give you a lift, so to speak?"

"I've traveled by Anton before," Snow said. "He can shorten the travel time considerably."

"Is he about?" Finn asked.

"He's been working the fields, but he's easy enough to locate," David pointed out. "I'll talk to him while you two visit Rumpelstiltskin."

"Thank you," Finn said, standing up. "I'm going to go and find my- find Bryony now."

He walked out the door and Meriel looked at her grandparents. "Find his _what_?"

"When have we ever heard Finn put a "my" before a girl's name?" Kai asked.

"I think he's going to have to work for this one," Meriel observed. "I think she's resisting him."

"My money's on Finn," Snow said, reaching for another muffin. "Finn is every inch his father's son, and I know that look. He's working on his strategy."

David shook his head doubtfully. "But if she's stubborn, like Emma..." Snow just smiled. David leaned back in his chair with a chuckle. "Yeah, I'll bet on Finn."

###

"I can't believe how beautiful it is here," Bryony said, stroking her fingers across the dirt and grass beneath her. "I've always lived in the city, and going to any kind of green space like a park or something...well, it was a real treat."

"Anton got everything started in the gardens and orchards," Lorelei replied. "And then he helped Snow hire the best gardeners around. They've even set aside green spaces throughout the village. I'd love to give you a tour."

"I'd like that," Bryony answered her with a smile.

"It'll have to wait until after we visit Rumpelstiltskin," Finn interjected, walking into view. "We'll need to be leaving for his castle shortly." He glanced down at Bryony. "I don't suppose you've ever ridden before?"

"Nope," Bryony shrugged. "Not much opportunity for that in the city."

A slow grin spread across Finn's face. "That's all right, love. You can ride with me." He extended a hand down to help her to her feet, then offered a hand to Lorelei, as well. "Did you two have a good chat?" He asked, giving Lorelei a guarded look.

"Oh, we talked all about you, Finn," Lorelei responded. "I told her _everything_." She shot him a cheeky look over her shoulder and strolled away.

Finn was still glaring at Lorelei's back when a scream sounded behind them, and he and Bryony whirled around.

Suddenly a blur of chubby arms and legs came flying at Finn as Zale and Ondine ran shrieking into the garden with a panting Grumpy and a tired looking Bashful trailing after. Finn threw his arms wide as Ondine ran straight for him, throwing herself at him and nearly knocking him over. Zale barreled into Bryony, looking up at her with a gap-toothed grin.

"Unc Finn! Unc Finn!" Ondine squealed as Finn lifted her into his arms.

"Up!" Zale demanded, tugging on Bryony's pants leg. She reached down, lifting him up and settling him on her hip. "Hello, there," she said, smiling. "And who are you?"

"Bryony, meet my niece and nephew. That is Zale," he said, reaching out tickle the boy's neck, "And this is Ondine. Both are completely incorrigible, but luckily, I'm only an uncle and I can hand them back to their parents when they've run me ragged." He looked over at Grumpy and Bashful sympathetically. "Which I would highly recommend for the two of you," he added.

"They're too fast," Grumpy panted. "It's like they never tire!"

"Well, I'd offer to spell you, mate, but we have to make preparations for a journey and we have a social call to pay." He handed Ondine over to Grumpy, who let out a grunt as she gripped his nose firmly in her little fist and pulled.

Bashful stepped forward to take Zale from Bryony, offering her a shy smile before he trudged off after Grumpy, all while trying to keep Zale from climbing out of his arms.

"They're really, really cute," Bryony said, smiling.

"That they are," Finn agreed. "And they know it, too, the little blighters." He turned to look at her. "Are you ready to go?"

"I suppose so. Might as well get it over with."

He reached out, twining a lock of her hair around his fingers. "Listen, love...I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in there. It didn't even occur to me that you might feel...different...being a seer, I mean."

"I know." She gave him an apologetic smile. "I forget magic is a common occurrence around here."

"Not common, really, but fairly frequent."

"Lorelei tells me you have magic, too."

"I do," he admitted. "And it's a damn good thing, or I'd still be paying for that Peking Duck."

Bryony couldn't help it, she laughed out loud, then clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry."

"No, go ahead and laugh," he told her, raising a brow. "I deserve it. I was a fool to be lead by my stomach."

Bryony looked back toward the castle. "I guess we'd better get going."

"Just a moment, love." He reached for her, pulling her into his arms.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Reminding you."

And then his mouth was on hers, pulling at her lips softly even as his arms slid around her, holding her tightly against him. Bryony's hands were flat against his chest, acting as a barrier, but the longer the kiss continued, the more she relaxed into him. Her hands curled into his shirt as the kiss went on and on and Finn deepened it, sliding his tongue into her mouth to duel and play with hers as her hands moved up into his silky hair.

Finally, he pulled away, dropping a few smaller, softer kisses as he did.

"There," he murmured. "That will hold me. For now."

"Finn...I really don't think-"

"Good. Don't think. Just accept it, love. I have a feeling it'll go a lot easier for us both if we do." He stepped back, then held out his hand.

And against her better judgement, she took it.


	27. Pieces Of The Puzzle

They arrived at Rumpelstiltskin's castle in the early afternoon, and by then Bryony wasn't sure if she wanted to slug Finn or pull him off the horse into the dirt and jump on top of him. He'd insisted on settling her in front of him on the horse, instead of behind him, under the guise of teaching her how to ride. What she got instead was his arms around her, and his strong thighs sitting tight against the outside of her legs. She could feel his chest warm against her back, and his hand had a tendency to settle on her thigh, his thumb rubbing along the inseam of the soft leather pants that Snow had given her, driving her crazy.

He helped her down off the horse, sliding her slowly down the length of his body and holding her there just long enough to make her wonder what was going to happen next before he let her go.

It wasn't long before they were comfortably ensconced in a parlor, drinking tea with Rumpelstiltskin and a delighted Belle, who was peppering Bryony with question after question.

"And you worked in a busy city?" Belle said placing a few more scones on a plate and pushing it toward Finn, who happily helped himself to two of them.

"I worked in a coffee shop," she answered, smiling. "It was a great place."

"Excellent coffee," Finn chimed in. "Probably the best I've ever had - not that I'm a connoisseur, by any means."

Bryony nodded. "It was really good. Lydia does a custom mix and we roast and grind our own beans. But I liked it for the atmosphere. We always had such interesting people coming in, and they all had such amazing stories."

"Stories are the best part," Belle agreed.

"Bryony's a writer," Finn added. "And a really good one."

She flushed. "I've never actually been published or anything..."

"Oh, but I'd love to read your work! Did you bring anything with you?" Belle asked.

"A few journals..." Bryony said. "They're nothing special."

"Actually, they're much more than that," Finn offered, looking at Rumple. "They're details of visions and dreams she's had - throughout the course of her life. And many of them were about my family."

Rumple looked at Bryony shrewdly. "Now that is interesting. Your entire life, you say?"

"As long as I can remember," Bryony told him. "Some visions were about Finn and his family, and I've had a recurring dream about my birth. There have also been some isolated visions, like snapshots. Really brief pictures of things. In addition to that, I've had one very strange dream about the Northern Kingdom."

"Strange?" Rumple's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"It included me," Finn added. "Literally. I was dreaming it with her."

"Had that happened before?" Rumple asked.

Bryony shook her head. "No, never."

"Were you in any kind of close contact? Touching?"

"Yes. I was holding her," Finn supplied.

Rumple ran a finger around the mouth of his teacup, thinking. "Well, then. She has a very strong gift, indeed. I've heard of seekers being able to transfer a vision, but it's very rare. And it can only happen if the vision directly involves the person the vision has transferred to."

"It did. But that's the problem...there was a prophecy or something within the vision." Bryony added.

"We were hoping you could tell her what the vision meant," Finn said. "Help her to interpret."

"Well, that's not easy as one would think," Rumple said, pouring himself some more tea. "Interpretation is in the eye of the beholder, really. The future is never a set course. There are far too many variables, and without knowing them all, there's no real way predict anything."

"So you're saying you can't help us?" Finn replied.

"No," Rumple shook his head. "I'm saying that your lovely companion probably knows more than I do about this situation. That gives her a far stronger place to make such predictions from."

"But I don't know anything," Bryony answered. "I've lived my whole life in another realm. And I just met Finn's family yesterday."

"Then the best thing for you to do, it seems, is spend some time here. You need to get to know the family, and you need to spend time in your homeland." Rumple took a sip of tea. "Once you learn more about his family and your circumstances, you'll have a basis for deciding where the pieces need to fit. Right now, they're just scattered about with no form of reference. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Bryony nodded reluctantly. "Yes, it makes sense. I just wish there was an easier way."

"The future is rarely easy," Rumple said softly. "And destiny..." he said looking from Bryony to Finn, "Destiny can be a tricky thing. Certain choices can alter even the surest path."

"Do you have any idea why we might be drawn together this way?" Bryony asked suddenly. "Finn and I? Why us?"

"Why not us?" Finn asked, leaving Belle smiling into her teacup.

"Well, in this case, I believe I can shed some light." Rumple set his teacup down. "It's simple, really. Like attracts like. In this case, magic attracts magic."

"It's because we're both magical?" Bryony looked at him in confusion. "Isn't just about everyone magical here?"

"Ah, but you and the young Mr. Jones are a pure, distilled form," Rumple pointed out. "Second generation true love."

"Both of us?" Finn asked.

"I'm sure of it," Rumple said. "And if there's one thing I can claim to be an expert on, it would be this. True love is a very, very powerful thing, and the both of you benefit from two generations of it. I can't help but think that comes into play here, particularly if there's a prophecy involved."

"Well, there's one thing you didn't know," Belle said. "One piece of the puzzle."

Rumple nodded., looking over at Finn "And knowing your mother's persistence and your father's knack for ferreting out information, I'm sure they'll have more pieces for you to assemble. Somewhere in there will be the clues that will allow you to complete the picture. You just have to look for them."

"We'd best be off to it, then," Finn said, rising. "Thank you for your help."

"Yes, thank you," Bryony added, getting to her feet and extending her hand to Rumple. "At least we've got an idea of how to proceed now."

Rumple took her hand, holding it a moment before he let it go. "Just remember," he said, looking at her intently. "Sometimes the answers are simpler than you think."

Bryony gave him a nod, then turned to follow Finn out. She paused a moment at the side of the horse. "What did he mean? Second-generation?"

"It means not only were you conceived in true love, but at least one of your parents was, as well," he explained. "True Love is the most magical force in existence." Finn levered himself up on the horse, then extended a hand down to her.

Bryony was surprised. "I get to ride behind you this time?"

"I can put you in front with the reins again," he offered, "But that will leave my hands free for the entire trip back."

"So?"

He just raised his brows and gave her a slow, devilish grin. She took his hand, and settled herself behind him.

"I'll take the back," she said, sliding her arms around his waist.

"Feel free to take advantage of me, love," he said, cheerfully. "I'm completely at your disposal."

###

Dinner that night was a festive affair, a full-on welcome celebration, courtesy of Snow. She spared no expense for their guest, and when Bryony objected that she wasn't really dressed for a party, Meriel pulled Bryony into her room, throwing an array of dresses at her and insisting that she wear one of her favorites - a form-fitting dark green velvet that did wonderful things for her skin. It had a low, heart-shaped neckline and was completely backless, clinging to her breasts and hips before flaring out into a slight train at the bottom.

Finn was more than appreciative, and much to his grandmother and sister's delight, he was unable to keep his eyes off Bryony the whole night. He sidled up to her shortly after dinner was over, while the various guests were still milling about.

"You didn't have to try to impress me with that dress, love," he said, running the backs of his fingers over the velvet on her shoulder. "I quite like you in nothing at all."

Bryony turned abruptly flushing hot red at the memory of him jumping into her bed stark naked. "What makes you think I'm dressing for you?"

Finn smirked. "The gown does match my eyes."

She shook her head. "Your sister picked it out, if you must know."

"I'll have to send her a thank you card."

"Hmmmm." Bryony sipped her glass of wine, realizing a little too late that the wine here was a lot more potent than what she was used to. She had to be careful about getting too fuzzy. She could easily slip into a vision if she wasn't alert.

"You know what?" she said, putting her glass down on the table. "It's warm in here. I think I'm going to take a walk in the garden."

Finn reached out, taking her hand when she tottered a little on her feet. "I've got you, love," he said. "Come on. I'll even let you kiss me in the moonlight if you'd like."

"Very generous," Bryony said, rolling her eyes. "But I think I just want some fresh air."

She let Finn pull her along through the open doors, both of them oblivious at the sight of Snow and Meriel elbowing each other in the ribs and grinning ear-to-ear. It was a beautiful night, and the lanterns were lit all through the gardens, giving it a wonderful, soft glow. Bryony breathed deep, taking in the smell of the flowers all around.

"You were so lucky to have grown up here," she said to Finn. "It's amazing."

"I did have a fortunate childhood," he agreed. "But you haven't begun to see beauty. Our kingdom has a hundred places I could show you, each more beautiful than the last. And then if I could get you out on the water...I could take you to a hundred more kingdoms and lands, each unique, each with a beauty all it's own. And the sea...there's nothing quite like the majesty of the rolling sea."

She stopped, looking up at him. "I'd like that. I've craved adventure my whole life, but I've always felt like I had to be home. It's hard feeling as though you need to be two places at once."

He pulled her into him. "Would it surprise you if I told you that I feel the same? I've always had a part of me that wanted to be home and with my family, but the sea calls to me and I can't be away too long. It's made me restless my entire life."

"So we have that in common, too," she said.

"Aye. We do."

He slowly lowered his head, and she leaned into him, not even bothering to run anymore. If destiny was going to stick them together, who was she to tell it no?

Her arms started to slide around his neck when a blood-curdling shriek cut the air. Bryony's startled eyes met Finn's and they were both in motion a half-second later. They ran through the garden and into the adjoining orchard, where they overtook a wheezing and lumbering Grumpy. He was completely out of breath, but gestured up ahead to a row of apple trees. Ondine was standing at the base of one of them, doing her best to try and shimmy up into it courtesy of a low-hanging branch. She was screaming her head off as she did so, too.

The reason why became apparent as they got closer - Zale was already up in the tree, and hanging off a branch that was a good twelve feet off the ground.

"Zale!" Finn saw him first, yelling his name in fear as he sprinted to get there before the child fell. Bryony was right behind him, but Zale saw his uncle and let out a squeal, kicking his little legs and loosening his grip in the process. Finn screamed his name as he ran and Bryony stumbled behind him, landing hard in the dirt. She looked up to see Zale falling, almost as if in slow motion, but before Finn could reach him a vine shot up around the trunk of the tree, snaking down from the branches below, grabbing the boy in mid-air and wrapping around him, leaving him hanging suspended, swinging back and forth, much to his giggling delight. Ondine clapped her hands happily, squealing with laughter, and clearly wanting a turn.

"What the devil...? Finn skidded to a stop, reaching out to pull Zale into the safety of his arms as Grumpy finally caught up to him. Finn turned to look at the dwarf only to follow his wide-eyed stare.

Bryony was on her knees, palms pressed to the ground, staring in horror at her own hands - hands that no longer had fingers, but roots, pressing into the earth and emerging again a few inches away as vines, vines that now twined around a tree and a little boy.

"What...am...I?" She asked, starting to shake all over.

Finn pulled Zale into him tighter, reaching down to pull Ondine into his arms as well.

"I don't know," he said, kissing his nephew on the head. "I don't know."


	28. Counterpart

It only took a moment before the vines began to recede, and by the time Meriel, Kai, Snow, David, and a half-dozen other assorted guests came running into view, Bryony was back to her normal self, sitting back on her heels and staring at her hands as though they were a foreign entity - and really, that's just what they felt like.

Meriel rushed forward, taking Zale from Finn's arms as Kai reached out to take Ondine. Meriel turned to look from Finn to Bryony and back again.

"What happened?" she asked. "We heard Ondine screaming. I hope she didn't give you heart failure over nothing."

David stepped over to Bryony and knelt down. "Are you all right?" he asked, obviously concerned.

"I - I'm not sure." She looked over at Finn, but he was still staring at her with that look on his face. It made her feel like a fist was squeezing her chest. David straightened up, offering Bryony his hand to assist her to her feet, but she didn't take it. She was afraid to touch him - or anyone, for that matter.

"I'm okay," she said, pushing herself up and dusting herself off. Snow reached out to help brush off her back, but Bryony stepped away. "Don't touch me!"

Snow took a hesitant step back. "I'm sorry, I was only trying to help."

"It's all right," Bryony apologized. "I know that. I just - " she looked over at Finn again, and he still hadn't said a word. "I have to go." She took off at run through the garden, half-blinded by tears, not even hearing the voice shouting her name until Finn caught her from behind, spinning her around.

"Bryony! Stop!"

"Don't touch me!" She said, trying to pull away.

"Stop!"

"Let me go!"

"I'm not afraid of you!" He said, giving her a shake. She finally stopped struggling, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "I'm not afraid of you," he repeated, pulling her in close and holding her tightly. "It's all right, love. It's all right."

She shook her head violently against his chest. "You have to take me home. You have to take me home, Finn. I don't belong here." She knew she was babbling, but her fear loosened her lips. "I don't know what happened, but I can't be here. I can't." She put her head against his chest, taking big, gasping breaths of air. Finn pulled her in tighter, holding her while his mind struggled to come up with some answers for her. In truth, he'd never seen anything like that in his life. Obviously, she was magical, but it went beyond her visions.

He looked over her shoulder to see that everyone was making their way towards them, and in the crowd was the one person he was hoping to find. He pulled back, lifting Bryony's chin so that he could look at her.

"Listen to me, love," he said, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I know you're afraid, but I might know someone who can help you find some answers. So let's go inside and sit down, and I'll ask her to join us. All right?"

Bryony took a deep breath, then nodded her head. "All right. But I'm serious, Finn. Stay away from me until we know it's safe. Please."

Finn's jaw tightened. "You're safe."

She shook her head. "We don't know that."

"I know it." He reached down and took her hand, refusing to let go even as she tried to pull away. He looked back over his shoulder. "Tink? Can we talk to you a moment?"

Tinkerbell looked questioningly at Snow and David, who gave her a shrug. "Of course," she answered.

"Let's go inside," Finn suggested. "Bryony needs to sit down." He looked over at his brother-in-law next. "Kai? You might be able to help us, as well."

Kai gave him a nod, and they all moved into the main hall. Tink, Snow, David, Kai and Lorelei all gathered around the table with Finn and Bryony, while Meriel took the twins upstairs to put them down for the night.

"What's going on?" David asked. "Something happened out there."

"It did," Finn agreed. "But we don't know what." He looked over at Tink. "I'm hoping you can help us figure it out - since you have some background with magic."

"What happened?" Tink asked.

"Zale was falling from the tree," Finn explained. "I wasn't going to get there before he hit the ground. Thankfully, I didn't have to. Bryony saved him."

Kai turned to look at Bryony. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," she said, under her breath.

Kai gave Finn a questioning look that was mirrored around the table. Finn took a deep breath, then told them.

"Bryony turned into some sort of plant. Her fingers turned into roots. The roots sprouted vines and it all happened in a split-second. It was enough time for the vines to wrap around Zale, stopping his fall, and then they disappeared, just as quickly."

Tink looked thoughtful. "Were you touching the ground when it happened?"

Bryony flushed red as everyone in the table turned to look at her. "Yes. I'd fallen as we were running."

"Magic is a gut reaction," Tink reminded Finn. "She's obviously magical - "

"Second generation true love, according to Rumpelstiltskin," Finn interjected. "Just like Meriel and me."

Tink pursed her lips. "There's more to it than that. What she has is really powerful, for it to have worked that quickly and manifested itself so dramatically."

"She also has visions," Snow added. "If that helps to know." She gave Bryony an encouraging smile.

"I'm not sure if that's related," Tink said. She turned to look at Bryony. "What about your parents?"

"I don't know," Bryony said quietly. "I never knew them."

"They're of this realm," Finn supplied. "But she left them shortly after she was born." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "But you did say you had a vision of your birth, didn't you?" He looked at Bryony. "Maybe that would give us some insight."

"Do you remember the vision clearly?" Tink asked. "It might help to go over it."

Bryony wrapped her arms around herself. "I know every detail. I've dreamt about it for as far back as I can remember. Lately, that particular dream has been coming two to three times a week."

"Go ahead," Snow said. "Maybe if you share it, we can help you understand it."

Bryony looked at all of them, still feeling a bit unsure. Finn reached over, taking her hand. "I'm right here, love. Go ahead. Tell us."

She gave an involuntary shiver, then a nod, and she began.

"My mother was in labor. There was a young girl, helping her. A servant, I think. They were somewhere cold, on a coastline with cliff walls and caves at water level. My father told the servant to take my mother to the caves, to hide her. Someone was after them, and my mother was afraid that they wanted to take me. I don't know why," she added, looking around. "And I don't know who. My father left to go and draw them away." She took another deep breath, continuing. "My mother and the servant made their way into the caves, but the tide was coming in, and they had to wade through water to try to get to dry ground. My mother was weak from the cold, and having to travel while she was in labor. She fell and couldn't get up. I birthed in the water." She paused, shivering again. "The servant got me out and dried me off, wrapped me, and kept me warm. She cut the cord, but my mother was -"

She stopped a moment. Swallowing the lump in her throat. "My mother was dying. There was blood in the water, a lot of it. She told the servant to hide me, gave her this ring and pendant, and then she crawled out of the cave until she reached my father's side. He was dead when she found him, but the pursuers, whoever they were, had gone."

"It's a miracle you survived. And your mother..." Snow said, her face showing clearly her sympathy for a woman she'd never met. "How awful. And you remember this? You see it?"

"Over and over," Bryony said miserably. "All my life."

"But there must be a reason for that," Tink said, thinking. "You see it because you're meant to. It's telling you something." She drummed her fingers on the table. "Is there anything else? Did you see vines or trees...anything of that sort?"

Bryony bit her lip. "Yes. I thought it was just some weird thing I invented in my mind. My mother had crawled over to my father, and she took his hand. When she died, her body...sunk...into the dirt and sand beneath her. And then..." she looked around to see if they all thought she was as crazy as she sounded. They were looking at her like they weren't sure. "Then a bush sort of sprouted up out of her, branches and leaves, and her hand became roots. Once the roots touched my father's hand, his arm became a vine, and then it spread over his body until he was nothing but vines, and they twined up around the bush, pulling it over."

Finn's eyes grew wide. "Pulling it over into an arch."

She looked at him curiously. "Yes."

"The arch I stepped through that brought me to you, in your world." Finn squeezed her hand.

"And your mother was trying to reach dry ground when you were born?" Tink asked. "Did she say anything about it?"

Bryony shook her head. "No, she was too weak, and her labor was too far along, I think." She thought for a moment, remembering. "After I was born, though...she told her servant she needed to get the earth beneath her. That's why she left the cave."

Tink's eyes met Kai's across the table. "I think I can help," she said. "I think I know what you are."

"You're a Dryad," Kai said.

Tink nodded. "Yes, I think he's right. You're part Dryad."

Bryony turned terrified eyes to Tink. "Like...in mythology? I'm a tree nymph or something?"

"Not exactly," Tink explained. "Dryads are to land what the Naiads and Nereids are to water. They see to the crops and to all green and blooming things. Your mother was most likely part Dryad, which means you are, as well."

"And my father?" Bryony asked.

"I believe he was human, from the way you describe him," Tink said. "Your mother's body returned to the earth as seed when she died - and the fact that she died tells me she wasn't fully Dryad - they're immortal unless their blood mixes with mortal blood. But your father died before her and his body remained. She was able to change him due to the bonds of true love. They'll bloom and grow together forever."

"And you were born in the water," Kai observed. "I find that the most interesting part of it all."

"Why is that?" Finn asked.

"She's your direct counterpart." Kai said. "You're part Naiad, but born on the land. She is part Dryad, but birthed into the water. Neither of you can fully be what you were born to be because of it."

Bryony was starting down at her hands, still in a state of shock. "How do I stop this from happening again?"

Snow reached over, taking her other hand. "You don't. This is who you are."

"You can learn to control it, with practice," David pointed out. "But I don't know any Dryads personally. Tink? Can you...introduce her to anyone?"

"Not really. Dryads are very close-knit, and they group together regionally. They can be a bit...well...for lack of a better word, 'snobbish'. She might not be the _right_ kind of Dryad around here, if you know what I mean. It's best that she try to find her mother's people for the help she needs."

"Everything leads us back to the Northern Kingdom," Finn said.

"It would seem so," David agreed. "I did speak to Anton - he can take you as far as the other side of the Blue Mountains, which will put you less than a day's journey from the Northern Kingdom. He'd take you further, but he's got a harvest to tend to, and that's as far as he thinks he can go in the time he has."

"I appreciate any help he can give us," Finn said. "That alone will cut several days off the journey."

"He can leave in the morning." David said, standing. "Take the royal coach - it's easy for Anton to carry and it'll be a comfortable ride."

Finn gave his grandfather a grateful nod. "Thank you."

Snow reached out, taking Bryony's hand again. "You should get some rest."

She looked up, her eyes still troubled. "If you'd like me to stay somewhere else tonight, it's okay."

Snow looked dismayed. "Of course not!"

Lorelei shook her head. "Bryony, it's not like that. None of us think there's anything wrong with what you are. Magical blood and human blood mix freely in this realm, and the results can be unpredictable and amazing. No one sees you as a threat."

"I could have hurt him - Zale. What if the vines had wrapped around his neck? I had no control over it."

"You saved Zale," Tink pointed out. "You didn't harm him. You used your power in the service of good. That counts for something around here."

Bryony looked around at their faces, and she took in a deep, shaky breath. "If it's okay, I'd like to get some rest now. Tonight has taken a lot out of me." She stood, and Finn stood with her.

"I have to check with the kitchens about provisions, love. I'll be up shortly."

"Take your time - I'm going to bed. I don't want to talk about any of this anymore." She gave everyone a nod, then turned and walked up the stairs.

Once she reached her room, she located her satchel, double-checking the contents inside. She wished she'd been smart enough to hide some food. Then again, if she left through the gardens, she could stock up in the orchard before she moved on. Someone was bound to know a way to get her back home. She'd start with Rumpelstiltskin. People in the village would be able to direct her.

She had that much of the plan formed in her mind - the next step was getting down off the balcony. She didn't dare risk going back through the castle - someone would see her. She thought briefly about trying to make the vines appear, but something told her instinctively that she needed to have her hands in the earth for that to happen. Wait - there were flower boxes on the balcony. Was that enough dirt?

She decided not to risk it. It was probably best to knot the bedsheets and climb down that way. How far was it to the ground, anyway? She stepped out onto the balcony to take a look over the edge.

And she walked smack into Finn.

"Going somewhere, love?"

"Finn." She stood, shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

"You're running again." He said, quietly.

"I can't - I just - " She didn't even know how to explain what she was feeling. She turned on her heel and walked back into the room. Finn was right behind her, reaching for her arm and spinning her around.

"You've got to stop running. From this, from me...from yourself."

"I can't do this, Finn." She could barely speak over the lump in her throat.

"You're frightened," he said. "This is all strange and new and terrifying. It's unsettling. But the best way to deal with that is to face it head-on. And you won't face it alone. How many times do we have to be shown that we're meant to do this together?"

She looked down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. "I can't." She said again.

He reached pulled her into him, reaching up to cup her face. "You've got to stop running, love." He glanced out the balcony doors, then back down at her again.

"And right now, the sky is full of stars, and you and I have unfinished business. The choice is yours." His thumb stroked delicately along her jawline. "You can keep running, but I'm going to keep finding you. Or you can give it up and realize that sometimes, destiny picks us for a reason."

She glared at him. "I could knock you on your ass again."

He gave her a slow, easy grin. "Go ahead."

"Damn you. Damn you." She mumbled, even as she twined her arms around his neck.

And she was still saying it as his lips closed over hers.


	29. The Night Before

Bryony pushed against Finn's chest, trying to put some space between them.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked, her eyes searching his face. "I'm trying to protect you."

"By threatening to toss me on my arse?" he couldn't help but grin.

"You know what I mean. I'm not...human. Not entirely."

He slid his hands up her arms, holding her by the shoulders. "Did you completely miss the part where I'm not either? Or that we're counterparts for each other?"

"What does that even mean?" She asked. "We don't even know that it's important."

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "And we don't know that it's not. All of these prophecy and ancestry and bloodline revelations could mean everything, or nothing, for all we know. I can't even begin to speculate on it, though my gut tells me it's likely the former. I do know this, love. What you are doesn't frighten me. And I swear to you, I want you more than I've ever wanted anything before."

She slid her hands up and around his neck. There was no point in running tonight. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her - maybe even more so, because she knew how it would be between them.

She welcomed the feel of his lips on hers as he backed her into the bed, and he was kissing her so thoroughly, she didn't even notice that he'd managed to unfasten her dress, pushing it off her shoulders until it pooled at her feet. Her undergarments went next, all somehow removed as he was kissing her neck, igniting a slow burn that had her breathing grow choppy and her heart racing.

She managed to get her hands up under his shirt, rubbing and touching his chest, his waist, until he made an impatient sound and pulled the shirt off over his head. He slid one arm behind her so that he could ease her down onto the bed, then managed to shuck off his breeches and boots. When his chest came down on top of hers, a satisfied sigh left her lips at the feel of his chest hair teasing the peaks of her breasts.

He continued to kiss her, giving her long, drugging kisses as he accustomed himself to the feel of her and the responses of her body. He moved back to her neck again pulling off her partway, leaving her open to exploration, and his fingers did exactly that, stroking and pressing, trailing fire in their wake as she moved beneath him. Her own hands were pulling him in, grasping at his shoulders and back before stroking down to his waist, around his hip and over his buttocks.

His head moved down to her breasts, drawing a stiffened peak into his mouth and rolling it gently between his teeth, making her back arch as a sound of pleasure burst from her lips. Her hand moved around his hip to the front, closing over him to stroke and caress him, but he brought his hand down, stilling hers.

"Not yet, love..." he nuzzled into her neck again, his breath warm against her ear. "I want you too badly."

"Please..." she moaned, rubbing her leg against his hip. "Please..."

"Patience," he murmured, moving back down her body again, his hand sliding along her thigh to settle on the warm delta between her legs. His fingers brushed her lightly, playing along the seam, driving her mad with the need to press up into his hand. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he pressed deeper, circling and rhythmically pressing on the bud of sensation before sliding two fingers deep within her, spreading her wetness and making sure she was ready for him.

Bryony felt like she was going out of her mind. Finn was torturing her with his fingers and lips and the feel of his body everywhere but where she wanted it most. Another moan tore from her throat as she slid her fingers into his hair, pulling it hard.

"Finn...oh my God..." her teeth bit down on his shoulder as he pressed deeper. Finn's lips tugged at her breast, and a thousand sensations focused in right under his circling thumb, tightening and tightening until Bryony shattered, and his mouth moved up to drink in her cries. Before the last of the aftershocks left her, he was sliding deep within her, and she gripped him like a silken fist, drawing a sound from deep in his throat. His fingers twined with hers, pinning her hands down next to her shoulders as he moved on her, increasing his pace when he felt her legs wrap around him, pulling him in harder.

She was so damned beautiful - he really wasn't sure he could hold himself back much longer. He shifted up, pushing her harder until her head tipped back and he felt her convulsing around him. He let himself go, shaking with the force of it, feeling as though he was pouring all of himself into her, and it went on and on...

It was several long moments before Finn was anywhere near to awareness. God's truth, he was seeing spots before his eyes. He'd never in his life felt pleasure that strongly before. His hips flexed, pushing him forward still, as the feelings still settled low in his belly.

Bryony was limp beneath him, her breath coming in gasps. He leaned up on one elbow to get his weight off of her, still holding one of her hands in his. He brought it to his lips, kissing her fingertips as they twined with his.

"I'm sorry, love," he said softly. "That wasn't well-done of me. I don't normally rush that way, but you quite overwhelmed me."

"Rush? You were driving me crazy," she said, still a little breathless.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Did I live up to your previous visions?"

She ran a lazy hand up his arm and across his chest. "Mmmmm. Better. Much better."

He leaned down, kissing her lingeringly. "I'm heavy," he said, shifting off her. Bryony gave a tiny gasp as he left her, still sensitive in the aftermath. He laid down on his back, pulling her across his chest, his hand stroking slowly up and down her arm as she snuggled in.

"Finn?"

"Yes?"

"Are you really part Naiad?"

"After all that, love, that's what's on your mind?" He gave a little chuckle.

"I just wondered if it makes you feel...different."

He considered that a moment. "Not so much as you'd think. I only just learned about it myself. And I suppose once the initial shock wore off, I realized I was the same person I always was."

"You are," she said quietly. "But I'm not. I'm some kind of freak."

He gave a sigh. "You're _not_ a freak. Not here, anyway. You're just magical."

"And you are, too."

"Thank you, love. I've been called that in bed before, of course, but coming from a magical peer such as you, it's much more meaningful."

She poked his side. "I can still flip you off the bed and onto your ass again."

He kissed her head, pushing her hair out of her face. "I'm too tired to fight you, love. You've completely and utterly drained me. I may sleep all the way to the Northern Kingdom."

Bryony smiled, rubbing her face against his chest. They were silent for a long time, their breathing the only sound in the room.

"Finn?"

He yawned hugely. "Yes?"

"I'm scared."

He pulled her up, laying next to her so they were facing each other. "You've nothing to be afraid of. Whatever danger there is, you'll just flip it on its arse."

She smiled in spite of herself. "I'm afraid for you," she said. "I don't know what's going to happen there."

"Neither do I." He agreed. "And that, love, is what makes it an adventure."

"If there's the slightest chance you're going to get hurt," she said softly, "If I feel like I'm a threat to you in any way, this stops. Do you understand me? All of it. I'll run and I'll keep on running."

He sighed, kissing her on the forehead.

"Keep telling yourself that, love."


	30. Walls

_**Whew! Finally! Looks like Finn and Bryony have finally made some strides. Now it's off to the Northern Kingdom, for a family reunion. Thanks so much, everyone for reading and commenting! Finn's got a lot more story to tell, so I hope you'll enjoy the ride.**_

_**I do plan to have a new Captain Swan story up sometime after the finale (depending on how it plays out) and I'll do my best to write my way to season four for you! I can't resist writing my naughty Hook stories...**_

_**Anyway...back to our story!**_

* * *

Bryony adjusted her tunic, brushing imaginary lint off her buttery-soft leather pants. Meriel had made sure Bryony was outfitted for just about anything, packing her a satchel full of clothing and necessities for an overland journey. The pants were a bit long, but she had to admit Meriel was right: Finn loved her in black leather.

"We have to get underway," he said firmly. "It's not fair trotting yourself out in skin-tight leather just as we're about to depart."

"You saw enough of my skin last night," she said under her breath, as Snow and David walked toward them.

"Never enough, love. Never enough."

"Are we ready?" David asked.

"We?" Finn looked at his grandparents. "Am I missing something?"

"We're coming along," Snow said, in a tone that brooked no argument. "Your grandfather and I have talked it over and we think you can use all the hands you can get."

"Which is why I'm along, too," Lorelei said, dropping her satchel on the ground in front of her.

Finn looked at all of them incredulously. "Anyone else?" he called out sarcastically to the nonexistent masses. "Perhaps we should hire a second coach?"

David put a hand on Finn's shoulder, leading him slightly away from the others. "Look, Finn, I know you were looking forward to some time alone with your girl, but from the sound of it, there's an awful lot going on up there. You might be able to use us. Leo can handle things. Plus, your grandmother has never visited her mother's homeland, so it's going to be a family journey."

"And I haven't been much of anywhere," Lorelei said, coming up behind them. "It's high time I get out and see the world."

Finn bit his lip so he wouldn't roll his eyes. "Very well," he said. "The more, the merrier."

David cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, "Anton, are you ready?"

The giant had been waiting at the far end of the courtyard, but turned when he heard his name. Bryony was still speechless upon seeing him. He gave her a warm smile.

"Don't worry, Bryony," he reassured her. "You're safe in my hands."

"Literally!" David added, with a smile. "We're ready when you are."

David helped the ladies up into the carriage, while he and Finn elected to ride in the coachman's seat. Anton lifted the carriage carefully, settling it in the crook of his arm, and off they went.

###

"So..." David said, a few hours into their journey. "She's the one."

"Hmmm?" Finn answered distractedly. "Oh, yes. She's the one the compass was pointing me toward."

His grandfather merely smiled. "That's not what I meant."

Finn gave him a look. "I'm not sure I know how to answer that."

"Yes you are." David said. "Sometimes, Finn, you just know. And all the denying in the world is only going to waste time you could have had...together."

"Did I say I was denying it?"

"No," David answered, shaking his head. "I guess you didn't."

Finn twisted his ring around on his finger. "She's good at putting up walls," he said.

David leaned back folding his arms behind his head. "And if you're anything like your father, you're good at scaling them."

###

"So...Bryony..." Snow said, smiling. "You're the one."

"I'm the one," Bryony agreed. "For whatever that's worth."

"Why do you say it like that?" Snow asked. "It's worth a lot. It may even be worth everything to someone. You never know."

"She's right," Lorelei agreed. "You really need to start believing in yourself."

"You barely know me," Bryony pointed out. "And I've got this...plant thing going on."

"And I've got a fairy thing going on," Lorelei said. She waved her hand, and a sparkling rainbow of glittery smoke lit up the inside of the carriage, making Snow and Bryony shield their eyes.

"Well, now I feel pretty boring," Snow said, still squinting as the illumination in the carriage returned to a normal level.

"You're _Snow White_," Bryony said. "You are anything but boring. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed writing your stories." She turned to look at Lorelei. "And your mother's, as well. She helped the family get out of Neverland, didn't she?"

"You saw that?" Snow asked.

"Yes. I saw a lot of your lives, I think. And I saw all of Finn's. I used to dream him at the same age I was all the time, and always in the context of him being here with you. But in the last few months, I started seeing visions of the two of us. Together, I mean."

"Were you here?" Lorelei asked.

"I think so. We weren't always outside, so it's hard to say." She flushed a little, then looked away. Snow and Lorelei exchanged a loaded glance.

"And now the two of you can see this quest through together," Snow smiled. "With ground support."

Bryony smiled back. "He's lucky to have a family around him."

"I know you've lost your parents - twice over," Snow said, with a wealth of sympathy playing across her face. "But we're here for you, Bryony. Whatever you and Finn have to accomplish in the Northern Kingdom, you won't be doing it alone."

"You don't have to feel obligated, you know," Bryony said. "I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to any of you."

"Obligated?" Snow looked across at Lorelei, who shook her head, smiling. "You still don't understand, do you?"

"What?"

"That you're Finn's destiny," Lorelei said. "That makes you family."

Bryony looked down, unsure of how to answer that. How could they possibly agree to anything, not knowing the outcome? How could they be sure they weren't walking into a world of danger? They should all be safe at home, surrounded by family and not out here risking themselves for a complete stranger.

"Finn won't turn his back on you," Snow said. "And neither will we."

_But that's what I'm afraid of,_ she wanted to tell them. And with every passing moment, she knew it would be harder to disentangle herself from him. He was already growing on her. She leaned her head back against the cushioned seat, and eventually, she drifted off.

_She stood looking into the vortex. She saw the fish at the bottom, two of them, circling and circling, and she knew she could reach them, if only she could only get free. She stared down at her hands, tugging hard, trying to wrench them from the dirt. She felt excruciating pain as the roots ripped away, but every time she freed one hand, the roots sprouted anew, anchoring her down. _

_She concentrated, sending vines down into the vortex, knowing it was fruitless - fish can't climb. _

_But these fish can. These fish can. These fish can._

_The thought ran through her mind and she pushed even harder, determined to reach them. Just a little further..._

_Suddenly the vortex changed, expanding, growing bigger and longer, lengthening into a long, rushing, pulsing river, and she watched as the fish were carried along, slipping away, her vines trailing after them, bobbing in the water. She wanted to run, to chase them down, and concentrated on pulling the vines back in, feeling them slide through the water, but they were heavy, so heavy. She tugged harder, and couldn't stop the scream that tore from her throat when Finn's bloated body popped into view, it's sightless eyes bulging between the vines that wrapped around his face and neck._

"Bryony!" Lorelei shook her. "Bryony, wake up!"

"Are you all right?" Snow asked, reaching across to take her hand. Suddenly, the sliding door opened between the coachman's seat and the riding compartment. David and Finn's concerned faces showed in the opening.

"Is everything all right?" David asked.

"Bryony!" Finn could see at once that she was coming out of a vision. He looked up, raising his voice so he could be heard. "Anton! Can you put us down for a moment?"

"Sure," Anton said. "Hold on." He gently lowered the coach down until it was on the ground, and Finn jumped down, wrenching the door open. A second later he was inside, pulling Bryony into his arms.

"I've got you, love. I've got you." He held her tight, and she curled into him, still shuddering violently. Snow's eyes met David's and then Lorelei's.

"You know what? I'd like to stretch my legs a bit," Snow said. "Lorelei?"

Lorelei nodded. "Of course. I'll go with you."

David helped them both down out of the coach, shutting the door and giving Finn and Bryony some privacy.

Finn reached down, smoothing Bryony's hair back off her face. "Was it a bad one?" He asked softly.

She nodded, unable to speak.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head, almost violently.

Finn's eyes closed, and he pulled her in tighter. "You don't have to do this alone, love."

"Yes, I do." Her voice was muffled against his chest.

"No."

"Yes, Finn, I do."

He put his fingers beneath her chin. "No, you don't. You've got to start trusting me. Let me in." He set his forehead against hers. "Whatever it is, I need to know it. And we need to face it - together."

She pulled away, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes. "We should get moving. The sooner we get there, the sooner this is over."

His jaw tightened. "Shall I go back outside? Or would you like me to stay?"

She looked down at her hands, twisting her ring back and forth. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Stay."


	31. Welcome

Bryony spent the rest of their journey with Anton sleeping peacefully against Finn's shoulder, the nightmares kept at bay. It was late afternoon when Anton set them down on the other side of a tall mountain ridge.

"Sorry, folks," he said, "But this is as far as I can take you. I have to be back tonight to irrigate."

"Anton, you've saved us days of travel - thank you." David gave him a smile.

"Thank you!" Snow called out with a wave.

"Safe journey, Anton," Finn called.

Anton gave them all a cheery wave, then picked up the coach and lumbered off. They watched him go for a moment, then reached down, picking up their satchels. David rummaged inside his pack for a moment, then pulled out a dagger in holster, offering it to Bryony.

"Here," he said. "You probably won't need it, but I don't know anything about these woods or what kind of people inhabit the Northern Kingdom now. Better safe than sorry."

Bryony took the dagger, clipping it to her belt. "Thanks," she said. "Let's hope I don't need it."

"She doesn't need it," Finn said, shouldering his pack. "She's a bloody menace without any weapons at all."

Snow looked at Bryony questioningly.

"Jiu Jitsu," Bryony explained. "Specifically, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. It uses leverage and speed as its core components."

"Is that how you knocked Finn on his arse?" Lorelei asked.

"What?" Finn put his hands on his hips. "Where the devil did you hear that?"

"From your grandmother," Lorelei said with a shrug.

Finn turned to Bryony with narrowed eyes. "And I wonder who told her?"

"I was just making conversation," Bryony said. "You were busy in the courtyard with your fiancee."

"My _fiancee_?" Finn sputtered. "She is _not_ my fiancee! I don't have a fiancee!"

"Well, not with that attitude, you don't," Bryony teased. "What was her name again?"

"Marianne," Lorelei helpfully supplied.

"Marianne doesn't like to be kept waiting, so we'd better be on our way." She shot a sideways smile at Lorelei and Lorelei couldn't help but giggle a little. They started walking, and Finn stomped off after them.

David smiled, shaking his head. "When have you ever seen any girl - other than family - have the courage to tease him? They're all dumbstruck by that face."

"Not her," Snow said, crossing her arms. "She's practically immune. Unless he's not looking, then she can't get enough of him."

David rolled his eyes.

"Women."

###

"Why don't you let me take the lead?" Finn said, pushing in front of Lorelei and Bryony.

"Why?" Lorelei asked. "You don't think I'm helpless just because I don't travel as much as you, do you?"

Finn raised his brows. "I didn't say you were helpless. But I have traveled extensively and I might be a bit better suited if we get attacked."

"You expect us to get attacked?" Bryony asked. She glanced around her, but there was nothing but trees as she could see. She gave a shrug, but before she could take another step, she tripped over a partially broken branch, landing hard on her knees in the dirt. She started to laugh a little with embarrassment, and started to push herself back to her feet when suddenly the branch wrapped around her feet, pulling her quickly up the trunk of the tree as everyone let out a shout.

She could hear Finn shouting her name, but she was moving so quickly, the branches of the tree were a blur. She raised her arms to protect her face from the branches and leaves as she flew up the length of the enormous tree, the bark ripping at her shirt and scraping her arms and back as she was pulled along. The tree was incredibly tall, and the ground was falling away at a truly alarming pace. Bryony was terrified, sure she was going to fall to her death at any moment as Finn's voice got fainter in the distance.

After what seemed like an eternity, she came to an abrupt stop, panting and struggling to get herself free. Another branch came around her, pinning her flailing arms down at her sides.

"Who are you?"

She whipped her head to the side, only to stare in confusion at the upside-down sight of a man, sitting on a tree branch just a few feet from her.

"I - I'm - " she wasn't even sure how to answer that. And her vision was getting blurry. "I'm going to pass out if you don't let me sit up."

"No."

He raised a brow, or at least, she thought he did. It was hard to tell upside down.

"I mean it. I need to sit up."

"Then do so," he said, in a bored tone. "It's not my fault if your human blood has weakened you."

Bryony glared at him, but it probably wasn't too effective, considering she really was about to lose consciousness. The only thing keeping her somewhat alert was all the pain from her abrasions. Whoever he was, he was either like her or had magic of some kind, and he wasn't playing by any rules but his own. If she could only get her hands in the dirt, she'd could try to make vines again, but this high up it was no use. She brought her head back, thumping it against the trunk of the tree in frustration, her hands fisting against the bark. She started to shift her hands, hoping to pull free of the vines, when she realized she couldn't move her pinky finger. It was stuck firmly to the bark of the tree like it was rooted there.

_Rooted there..._

She put her fingertips to the trunk, concentrating now, and she felt her fingers moving, elongating, climbing into the cracks and crevices of the bark, running along it and moving upward. She felt the vines as they climbed, and used them as an anchor, pulling herself up, fighting against the branch that wound around her chest. She closed her eyes and really focused, and a moment later she felt a warm sensation, and the restraining branches fell away, leaving her free. She grabbed hold of the vine she'd generated, swinging herself over to a thicker branch and sat down facing the man.

He looked surprised, and he eyed her curiously, his head cocked to one side. She stared back, refusing to let him intimidate her. Not that he was a frightening sight at all - just the opposite. He was gorgeous. Rich, brown hair, bright green eyes, and he was shirtless, with a finely defined muscular chest and arms. He was resting his hands on the branch next to his legs, which were swinging back and forth.

"So I'll ask again," he said, politely. "Who are you?"

She wasn't sure she wanted to answer him. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well," he said, crossing his arms. "You're obviously one of us, but I don't know you. And I have no idea why that is."

"I'm traveling," she explained. "And this was _such_ a warm welcome," she finished sarcastically.

"But you're not of elsewhere," he pressed on. "You're ours. I know your leaves, even though I can smell your human blood." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "And you're magical."

Bryony stared down at her hands, which had returned to normal, but upon glancing down she realized her shirt was badly torn to the point that it hung in tatters, and didn't quite cover her breasts all the way. She reached up, pulling the shredded pieces together.

"So," she said. "You're a dryad."

"I should think that would be obvious." He raised a brow. "And I'll ask again: why are you here? And where did you come from?"

"Did you harm my friends?"

"The humans?" he made a face. "Why bother?"

"So it's only me you wanted to rip the skin off of," she said, examining her bloody arms and assorted raw patches.

"You could have stopped me sooner," he said. "I didn't know your skin would be so sensitive."

Bryony looked down, but she couldn't see anything from this high up, only branches. She could hear Finn, still calling for her, but from a fair distance away. "Are we done here?" She asked. "I need to get back."

"Where are you going? What's your destination?" he asked.

"The Northern Kingdom."

"You're almost in it. You're right on the outskirts. But you really should pay court to Alona."

"Alona?"

"The Queen. She'll want to know why a stranger who isn't stranger is in our midst." He put his hands back down beside him again, his legs swinging back and forth.

"I can't. I have to stay with my friends," she said firmly.

"I could insist," He said with a smile that belied the not-so-subtle insistence of his tone.

"I'd like to see you try." Something told her that if he wanted to, he could have dragged her there already. She'd managed to break his hold, and he wasn't going to chance that again.

"All right," he said with a shrug, giving a short hop that brought him lightly to his feet on the branch. "Suit yourself." He grasped a branch above him, swinging over to stand next to her, and offering her a hand. She stared at him a moment, then took it, letting him help her to her feet. To her surprise, she didn't feel any vertigo or notice that she was off-balance in the least on the branch. It was like she was standing on the ground beneath her.

"If you'll excuse me," she said. "I've got a long climb down."

"Climb?" He gave a short laugh. "You really are entirely too human. Just use a vine."

"I can do that?"

He raised his brows, looking at her like she was an idiot. "Fine," she mumbled. "I'll be going, then."

He reached out, touching her shoulder, and she was immediately assailed with a strange, pulling feeling, and she had to keep herself from leaning into his touch. He looked as startled by it as she was, taking his hand slowly from her shoulder and moving it around, touching the tattered remains of her shirt.

"Sorry about your clothing," he said. "And your skin."

She gave him a nod, and stepped back on the branch.

"I'm Roan," he said. "And I usually have far better manners."

"Bryony," she replied. "And you're the first dryad I've ever met."

He gave her a confused look. "You have no people?"

She glanced back down toward the ground, then realized it wasn't much use. "No. No, I don't."

"I think you're wrong." Roan put his hand to the branch above him, but turned to look back at her over his shoulder. "We'll meet again...Bryony."

And he was off, swinging through the branches at a blinding pace, vanishing quickly from view. Bryony could hear Finn's voice more closely now. She put her hand to the tree trunk, feeling the power rise up within her, sending vines out to climb the trunk and loop around the branch directly above her. She took a breath, carefully detaching her hand from the trunk - which wasn't easy - and managed to keep the vines intact. She wrapped her hand around them, then slowly started to lower herself, feeding more vine out as she went. After a moment, she got the hang of dodging the branches, and she was sliding along at a much faster pace.

She saw Finn directly below her, and called his name so he wouldn't be startled by her. The relief on his face did something funny to her insides. She slowed, stopping on a branch next to him, and he pulled her close.

"You're all right!" He squeezed her, hard, and she winced. "No, you're hurt! Look at you!" He took in her torn clothing and her abraded and bloody skin and his eyes went deadly cold.

"Who did this to you?"

"Someone like me," she said. "I just met the dryad welcoming committee. He was a real charmer."

"He did this?" Finn's voice bit out. He glanced up the tree. "Is he still up there?"

"No."

A muscle ticked in Finn's jaw. "Please tell me you knocked his arse out of the tree."

She smiled, shaking her head. "I'm afraid not. He took off through the treetops."

"Here," he said, wedging himself in a sitting position on the branch he was climbing and reaching down to pull his shirt over his head. He held it in one hand a moment, studying her. "Hold on," he said, reaching out to touch her shoulder gently. He closed his eyes, concentrating, and a warm, purple glow spread from under his hand, down her arms and across her torso, healing her scrapes and bruises.

"How did you do that?" She said, looking down at herself.

"It's the only magic I've managed to muster up," he said. "You could likely do it for yourself, considering your heritage. You just need a bit of practice." He slid the shirt over her head. "You'll have to release the vines to get your arms through, love."

"Oh - yeah. Give me a sec," she said, stepping down onto a branch. She drew the vines in, struggled into the shirt and then reached out to touch the tree trunk, creating the vines again. "I can give you a ride, if you'd like."

He quirked a brow. "oh, I'd like that. Just never done that in a tree before." He gave her a grin. He started to reach for the vine, but stilled his hand. "Can these bear my weight? I don't want to hurt you, love."

"I think so. Let's give it a try."

Finn wrapped his hand around the vine and slid carefully off the branch. She gave him a nod, and slowly lowered them both to the ground, where Snow, David and Lorelei were waiting.

"What happened?" Snow exclaimed, rushing over to them. "Are you all right?"

Bryony nodded, pulling in the last of the vines back. "Finn took care of me."

"One of the dryads took her," Finn explained. He turned to Bryony. "Did he say why?"

"Something about me paying a visit to a queen," Bryony said. "And he wanted to know why I'm here."

"Tink did say that dryads were snobs," David reminded her. "He probably thought you were encroaching on his territory."

Bryony shook her head. "No, he said he recognized my leaves."

"That makes sense," Lorelei said. "If there's some kind of regional group or something. Leaves are very distinct, and their patterns fluctuate because of weather, the soil and the availability of water."

"It'd be like a fingerprint," Snow nodded.

"Was he friendly?" David asked. "Or do we need to be on our guard?"

Bryony shrugged. "I don't know. I wouldn't call him friendly, but he let me go."

"He might've let you go, but I don't like it," Finn said. "I don't like it at all." He reached down, pulling a shirt out of his pack and sliding it over his head before he slung the pack back over his shoulder. "Come on. Let's get out of these bloody woods."

He put a hand to the small of Bryony's back guiding her forward behind David and Snow, who'd taken the lead. Lorelei fell in behind them, her gaze moving up to the treetops above them where Roan stood perched on a branch watching them. They stared at each other intently until he gave her a mocking bow and leaped from the branch, swinging through the treetops until he was out of sight.


	32. Reunion

_**Sorry for the delay on this chapter, but I'll wager you were all watching the Season 3 Finale like I was, and then re-watching it (or clips of it) over and over. *sigh* Right in the feels. **SPOILER**I knew he traded his ship. I KNEW it. And punching himself in the face! Oh...so many good moments in the finale. And I turned to my daughter when he said, "Not everyone gets to watch their parents fall in love" and I said "Oh, but I've done that already!" One last thing, and I'm calling it now: Marian isn't Marian. I think she's Zelena. And I'm putting it here for all posterity.**_

_**But I digress. Let's get back to Finn, who - I have to be honest here - is looking like he's going to be more than fifty chapters now. Seriously. You can't begin to know what I've got planned for Bryony and Finn. And others. So let's get back to the Northern Kingdom and catch up...**_

* * *

They came upon the farmhouse less than half an hour later, and David suggested approaching with caution, since they didn't know what kind of a reception they'd be getting. It was finally decided to let David and Snow approach while everyone else hung back to be sure they weren't walking into a dangerous situation. Snow and David took to the road, while everyone else circled around to the far side of the farmhouse. They crouched down, pulling the hoods of their brown cloaks up and over their heads so they'd blend into the foliage better.

If they hadn't been watching the farmhouse so intently, they might have seen the figures creeping up behind them. It was until three separate blades were at their throats, that they realized they were in trouble.

"Don't move," a man's voice said. He didn't get to expand on that, because unfortunately, he'd chosen Bryony to put his knife to, and she reacted. She had his arm twisted, his face in the dirt and his knife in her hand so quickly, it startled his two companions. Finn managed to grab the arm of the one that held him, while Lorelei struggled wildly with her captor. A moment later, Finn pushed his attacker off to the ground where she sat in the dirt looking up at him with wide eyes.

"Finn?" She leaped to her feet, throwing her arms around him. "Finn!"

"Bloody hell," came a muffled voice from the dirt at Bryony's feet. "Let me up!"

Bryony turned to look at Finn and realized instantly who they were dealing with. She released her hold on Finn's father, stepping back to let him get to his feet. Lorelei's captor still held her, having pinned her to a nearby tree. He shot a questioning look at Killian, who was dusting off his pants and shaking some feeling back into his twisted arm.

"That's quite the reflex you've got there," he said, eyeing Bryony warily. A second later, his eyes shifted to Finn, who was still engulfed in his mother's arms, and his face lit up with a megawatt smile. "Finn, my boy! You've done it!"

"Papa!" Finn hugged his father with one arm - it was the best he could manage, considering his mother still hadn't let him go. Bryony was about to go and help Lorelei, when her captor released her.

"My apologies, miss," he said. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

Lorelei shook her head and started to push away from the tree, only to come up against him again since he hadn't moved back. He stared down at her a moment before remembering his manners and stepping back further.

"I'm sorry - I'll just - " He gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm Brandt," he said.

"Lorelei." She extended her hand. "Is this how you normally welcome guests to the Northern Kingdom?"

He flushed. "No. No, of course not. This is my sister's farm, and we were on our way to visit her."

"So you just figured you'd better attack us?" Lorelei asked.

Brandt gave her an unfriendly look. "We didn't know why you were lurking here instead of approaching in plain view."

Lorelei raised a brow. "We weren't _lurking_. We were being cautious."

"Maybe we were lurking a little," Bryony said with a smile. "It probably looked that way, anyway."

Her voice brought Killian and Emma's attention to her, and with a confirming nod from Finn, they both released him and walked over to her.

"So you're her," Emma said with a slow, spreading smile. "He found you."

Bryony looked from Emma to Killian and back again. "You look just like I thought you would," she said.

"Wait? You...know us?" Emma's brow knit in confusion.

"It's a bit of a story," Finn remarked. "Perhaps we'd better find my grandparents and we'll all catch up."

"Your grandparents?" Killian looked taken aback. "They're here?"

"We're here," David called out from behind him. "Snow's inside with the lady who owns the farm. I came out here to find Finn but got to see you get tossed in the dirt, instead."

Killian gave David a look. "Well, she was bloody fast, I'll give her that."

Emma raised her brows at Bryony, who shrugged.

Finn stepped over to stand next to Bryony, placing his hand at the small of her back. "Bryony, these are my parents, Killian and Emma Jones." He smiled at his parents, who were shooting a sideways glance at each other, not having missed his proprietary hand. "This is Bryony. And we've got a few things to tell you about her."

"Yeah, well...so do we," Emma answered. She gestured over toward Brandt. "This is Brandt. His sister owns the farm, and she's got even more to tell you, since she was the one who was with you when you were born, Bryony."

Bryony's face clearly showed her hesitation. This was the woman who knew her parents - the woman who saved her life and was responsible, at least partially, for her going through the portal to begin with. Suddenly, she was afraid. She ran her perspiring palms down her thighs, and tried to remember to breathe.

Finn leaned down, lifting her chin gently. "It's all right, love. Better to have some answers than live with the questions."

She nodded, not really able to speak due to the nervousness she was feeling. He reached down, taking her hand and leading her toward the farmhouse. Brandt gestured for Lorelei to follow, and then he fell into step behind her, bringing up the rear.

Emma merely watched them all go with her jaw hanging open, until her husband reached over to physically shut her mouth for her. David crossed his arms and smiled smugly.

"Oh," said Emma. "He's..."

"Got it bad?" David filled in. "It certainly looks that way."

"Is she always that combative?" Killian asked, still brushing dirt off his clothing.

"She knocked him on his ass when he tried to use brute force to get her here. More than once." David added.

"Well," said Killian, "Let's get inside and put the pieces together, now that we have them."

"Wait - " Emma put her hand on her father's arm, stopping him. "How does she feel about Finn?"

David lowered his voice. "According to your mother, she didn't sleep in her room last night."

Killian smiled. "That's my boy."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Come on. I've been waiting twenty-five years to hear what happened to that baby."


	33. The Truth Inside

Bryony hesitated at the doorway as Finn held the door for her. He reached down, taking her hand again.

"I'll be right here, love. I promise," he said. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped through. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light of the candles, and she located Snow when she called Bryony's name.

"Come and meet Brangane," Snow said. "She's the owner of this farm and she's very graciously offered us some dinner."

Brangane had been turned away, fetching a pitcher to put some water in, and she turned to greet her guests. Her face went white at the sight of Bryony, and the pitcher dropped from her hands, shattering on the floor.

"It...it can't be..." she murmured, her eyes frozen on Bryony's face. She took a deep breath in, then finally broke contact at the sight of her brother coming in the door behind Finn.

"Brandt! What brings you? And who are these people?"

Snow jumped to her feet at the sight of Emma and Killian walking in with David. "Emma! We thought we'd make a family trip of it!"

"I can see that," Emma said. "And you must be Brangane," she added, nodding at the woman, who was now even more wide-eyed, if that were possible.

"It's you," she whispered, looking from Emma to Killian, and then again at Bryony. "Oh," she said, feeling behind her for a chair that she could half-sit, half-fall into. "I can't believe it."

Bryony shot Finn a wary look, and he gave her an encouraging nod. She walked slowly over, then sank to her knees in front of Brangane.

"I think you knew my parents," she said.

Brangane began to tremble, tears running down her face as she reached out and carefully touched Bryony's hair. "You've the look of your mother," she said. "Her image almost exactly, but for her eyes. Hers were green. You've your father's eyes."

Bryony reached out, taking the woman's hand. "I want to say thank you. You saved my life."

"I prayed for you," Brangane said, her voice choked with tears. "Every single day of my life, I prayed that you were safe."

"I was," Bryony nodded. "I had parents who gave me a home and a good life."

Emma sat down next to Brangane. "I'm so glad to hear that," she said. "I thought about you, too. I always felt like we should have done more to save you."

"You did," Finn chimed in. "You sent me. And we've had some startling revelations since then. Perhaps we'd all better share what we know."

"I brought wine," Brandt offered. "Brangane has much more to offer in the way of food. Her crops grow as long as their planted in the southern field, outside the boundary of the kingdom."

Lorelei pulled up a chair. "Well, I could certainly use a drink. I did just get a knife to my throat." She pulled at the ties on her cloak, and Brandt stepped over to help her take it off. She gave him a look over her shoulder that clearly told him to back off.

"I'm just trying to help," Brant said. "And I've apologized already - I didn't know who you were."

"Brandt, this is Lorelei," Emma explained. She's family, in a semi-distant sort of way."

"You're a princess?" he asked, giving her a tentative smile.

She rolled her eyes. "No. Nice and common. You did mention wine, didn't you?" She gave him a pointed look and he backed away, reaching down into his pack to retrieve two bottles of wine. He set them on the table, and then he busied himself making dinner.

Brangane squeezed Bryony's hands, smiling at her. "I had hoped that your father had escaped somehow, and found you. That you two had fled the kingdom."

Bryony shook her head. "My father is dead. He died that night. The night I was born."

"Perhaps he got away," Brangane said hopefully. "And now that you've returned to us, we can find him, wherever he's gone."

Bryony took a deep breath. "He's dead. And so is my mother."

"They never found the bodies," Killian said. "She may be right, lass. Perhaps one or both of your parents still live."

Bryony got to her feet. "They're dead. Both of them." She tried not to sound angry, but goddammit, she was. She turned and walked out the door, waving a dismissive hand at Finn when he called after her.

Emma reached out, touching Finn's hand as he started to go after her. "Finn?"

"It's all right - I'll talk to her. But suffice it to say that she's right. Her parents are dead." He looked over at his grandparents. "Fill them all in, will you?"

He headed out the door, and it took a moment before he saw her. The sun had set and the trees were casting shadows. She stood at the base of a giant evergreen, facing away from him into the forest.

"Bryony - "

"Go away, Finn."

"They didn't mean to dredge up a painful past. I'm sorry, love."

"It's all right." He put his hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged them off. "I don't want to talk about it."

"We don't have to talk at all," he said softly, turning her around. "It's a beautiful night and I can think of better things do, quite honestly." He gave her a grin, reaching for her to pull her close. She stepped back.

"Not now, Finn, okay?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm just..." she looked around, letting out a gust of air. "I don't know. I feel restless. Ever since we got here."

"You've always felt restless, love. We've got that in common, as I recall."

"But not like this. It's been so much...more. I don't know." She shook her head.

He reached out, slowly rubbing his hands up and down her arms and pulling her in slightly. "It's unsettling, I'm sure. And then to meet the woman who saved your life...I would imagine that's quite emotional for you."

She nodded, looking down at his shirtfront. He slid his hand up to cup her face. "Let's go back inside. I'm sure you have questions, and Brangane can answer them."

He walked her back to the farmhouse, and she stepped inside, ducking her head a little with embarrassment. "I'm sorry I walked out like that," she mumbled.

"It's all right lass - we're the ones who ought to be apologizing," Killian replied. "Snow and David have told us about your heritage, and your visions. It can't be easy to have been an eyewitness to your parent's passing."

Bryony pulled a chair out and sat down gingerly. "No. No, it wasn't."

"So now that we're caught up on you, why don't we find out what happened before that day?" David suggested. "Brangane can tell us some of it, and I think Emma and Killian have some information, as well."

"You must have questions, my lady," Brangane said softly. "I'll do my best to answer them."

Bryony nodded. "What can you tell me about my parents? Who were they running from? And why?"

"That much, Brandt filled us in on," Emma said. "It was King Markus. He's still in power, by the way, so don't go advertising who you are."

"She's right, my lady," Brangane urged. "It's not safe for you, if he knows who you are. He was waiting for your birth, and had planned to take you from your mother as soon as you were born." She paused. "But perhaps I should start from the beginning."

Finn pulled up a chair next to Bryony, settling in, and after a moment for reflection, Brangane began her tale.

"Your mother was but sixteen when she was brought to the kingdom, under heavy guard and at the height of winter, when the land was cold and dead. Markus had been told that she was magical, and that by marrying her, he would ensure the prosperity of our lands."

"The prophecy," Emma said.

"Yes," Brangane nodded. "Only Isolde didn't love him. She'd been kidnapped from her family, and Markus locked her away in one of his castle rooms, never allowing her out. He forced her into a sham of a wedding the night she arrived, and forced himself on her nearly every night. I was brought to be her ladies' maid shortly after she got here, and she was desperate to escape him. She began having visions of carrying a child - a child that would be taken from her. She told me of certain herbs that could be added to his wine so as to keep him from getting her with child when he took her."

"She was only sixteen?" Snow whispered. "My God."

"Markus is a real piece of work," David said, shaking his head.

Brangane nodded. "He was a foul, dark man with no concerns beyond his own comforts. Isolde finally managed to escape him one day, through a broken window. She'd nearly made it across the parapet and down the stairs before one of Markus's knights intercepted her. They'd all been told that the King's new wife was quite mad, and their marriage was one of necessity. He brought her back to her room, but once he saw the inside, he knew she was more than magic. That knight was Tristan, and he soon started visiting her there."

"We saw the room," Emma said. "When we were at the castle. It all makes sense now - she was a Dryad."

"Partly, I think," Brangane said. "They were her mother's people. Her father was one of us...a farmer. They murdered him when they took her."

Bryony looked down at her hands, but stayed silent. Finn reached over and folded her hand into his, squeezing it gently.

"The rest, I'm afraid you know. She fell pregnant with Tristan's child, and they planned their escape. We tried to make their way down the coast, off the main roads, but Markus found us. Tristan went to head them off and Isolde birthed the babe in the caves." She looked over at Bryony sadly. "I held you the rest of that night, trying my hardest to keep you warm, milady. Come the dawn, I knew I had to get help or you wouldn't survive much longer. That's when I found Princess Emma and Sir Killian, and that's when I lost you." She put her face in her hands, and her shoulders shook at the memory. Snow reached out, putting an arm around the woman's shoulders.

"You did the best you could," She said, kindly. "You were just a girl."

"You saved my life," Bryony said. "That's all my parents wanted. And I can never thank you enough."

Brangane dabbed at her eyes with her apron as Brandt poured her a fresh glass of water. "Thank you, milady. It's been hard, these years...not knowing."

Bryony stood up. "If you'll excuse me...I'd like to be alone for a little while."

Finn started to stand as well. "I'll go with you, love."

Bryony shook her head. "Alone, Finn."

Emma looked over at her son, catching his eye. She gave him a very slight shake of her head. He let out a sigh.

"Very well, but don't be out too long and stay close. I don't know what sort of animals roam the woods here."

Bryony gave him a nod, and without another word, she headed through the door.

"Give her some time, Finn," his father said. "She's only just heard a horrific story about her parents. Her mother's life was a living hell. That can't have been easy to hear."

"All the more reason why she shouldn't be alone," Finn pointed out.

"Let her come to you, lad." Killian gave him a half-smile.

"He's right," Snow said, nodding. "She needs time to sort out what she's heard, and then she'll need a shoulder. Let her come to you."

Finn stared at the door, knowing they were probably right, but his every instinct told him to go.

Bryony walked out past the main yard of the farmhouse, over toward the trees again. She felt it once more - the overpowering urge to put her hands in the earth or perhaps dig her fingers into the bark of the trees. She stepped closer to the massive evergreen she'd been looking at earlier, smelling the rich scent of its needles and sap, feeling the give of the bark as her fingers began to root into it. She took a deep, cleansing breath, letting it out slowly.

"Feel better?"

She started, pulling her hand back and glancing up to where the voice had come from. Roan was above her on a branch - she could just barely make him out.

"Actually, I do," she replied. "But I guess you'd know that."

He tilted his head, eyeing her curiously. "Your blood is diluted, but you still have your full powers. I'm not certain why."

"Maybe because of true love?" Bryony said. "I know that sound silly, but I was told that being the product of true love gives you magic here."

Roan considered that a moment. "It does."

"And I'm second-generation, if you know what that means."

"I do," he nodded. "And now it makes sense. Your magic boosts what little power is in your blood. Interesting." He leapt down from the branch, landing lightly on the grass next to her. "Would you like to see something?" he asked.

Bryony glanced nervously back at the farmhouse. "I can't leave. I promised."

"Is he your keeper - the man with the dark hair?"

"My _keeper_? What is that supposed to mean?"

Roan crossed his arms, leaning against the tree trunk. "Just that it happens sometimes. One human thinks he owns another. He looks at you that way."

Bryony's chin came up. "He doesn't own me. But I don't want to worry any of them by wandering off. They're kind people."

Roan made a rude noise. "'If you say so. I was only going to suggest a trip to the top." He pointed up the tree. "The air is cool and the stars are brilliant from above. You'd like it." He held out his hand. "I can teach you how to dance the branches."

Bryony smiled, her eyes lighting up. "You can do that? Teach me to climb like you?"

"It's natural for you," he said. "I would imagine it won't be hard at all."

She glanced back at the house once again, biting her lip. "All right, but I can't be gone long."

He gave her a slow smile, and she placed her hand in his.

"You're very soft," he said, stroking the backs of her fingers with his thumb. "I like it."

And a moment later, he was pulling her and they were moving up the tree, leaping from branch to branch and it was easy, so easy to dance between the needles and branches, swinging and shifting on the wind. Bryony let out a laugh of pure joy as they reached the top and stood, balancing easily on a swaying branch that held their weight as though it were nothing.

The sky was full of stars and the breeze caressed her skin and she closed her eyes, just feeling it.

And Roan leaned against the tree trunk, and watched her.


	34. Duty and Destiny

Bryony dropped down onto the soft pile of needles at the base of the tree, making no noise at all. She also scared the living hell out of Finn, who was standing a few feet away and hadn't seen or heard her come down the tree.

"Bloody hell!" He said, putting his cutlass back in it's scabbard. "Were you pulled up the tree again?" He glanced around, not entirely sure they were out of danger.

"No, it was voluntary," she said with a smile. "It turns out I can climb trees like you wouldn't believe."

He found himself smiling in the face of her obvious joy. "It helps you...being around it. The trees. The soil. Doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"It's the same for me, only with the water."

"That makes sense for both us, considering," Bryony said.

He reached out, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger. "Yes, I suppose it does. Two sides of a coin, you and I."

"Opposite sides," she pointed out.

"Ah, but that just makes it all the more interesting." He held out his hand. "Brangane has found beds for the lot of us for the evening. You and I can find some privacy in the loft of the barn behind the house."

She flushed, looking down at the ground. "Your parents are here," she said, a bit uncomfortably. "Maybe we'd better sleep separately tonight."

His eyes went wide. "My parents are under no illusions about us, love. They were young once, too."

A rustling from the branches over Finn's head made her look up.

"We'd better get inside" she suggested. "I'd like to talk to Brangane some more."

Finn hesitated only a moment. "All right." He placed his hand in the small of her back, guiding her into the house. And then he turned and looked over his shoulder, unable to shake the uneasiness that gripped him.

###

"So you had a vision...together?" Emma clarified.

"Yes," Finn explained. "And Rumpelstiltskin wasn't much help. He claimed that we'd be better of finding the answers to it on our own. That there were too many unknown variables."

"Do you remember what the voice said?" David asked. "Maybe we could put some clues together and decode it."

"I remember," Bryony said. She took a breath, then recited:

_The famine in the land and the poison in the sea_

_Will take the Northern Kingdom and it will cease to be_

_Death and desolation, hunger, storm and pain_

_Darkness and disease will come and misery remain_

_Where the sea turns to water and the water meets the land_

_At the time of the solstice, there the good must make its stand_

_By that which blooms within you and flows within your veins_

_Forged by magic they will conquer and peace will ever reign_

She finished her recitation, and folded her hands in front of her on the table. Everyone looked thoughtful. She could practically see the wheels turning in their heads.

"Well, the first half is self-explanatory," Killian said. "All of that is happening now. And we know that the kingdom is under a dual curse - one on the land, the other on the sea."

"And we know Ursula cursed the sea, as retaliation toward Markus, for not giving her Bryony." Emma added. "We still don't know how she managed to curse the land."

"Let's examine the rest," David said. "Where the sea turns to water..."

Snow looked confused. "Isn't the sea _made_ of water? It makes no sense."

"Water...water..." Finn mused. "Drinking water - fresh water."

"The river," Killian nodded. "Where the sea meets the water. At the mouth of a river."

"And the water meets the land," Bryony repeated. "But on a river, that's all along the sides - the riverbank."

"Or maybe at its source?" Lorelei suggested. She turned to Brandt and Brangane. "Is there a river nearby? And where does it begin?"

"There is only one river flowing through the kingdom," Brandt told them, "And that's the river Yorn. It's very large, with an incredibly strong current. It's not traveled much due to the swiftness of the water and the rapids throughout."

"It makes it''s head at the foothills," Brangane said. "At the oak."

"The oak?" Finn asked.

"Yes, it's been there for as long as history has been recorded." Brangane said. "It's massive, and the river emerges from an underground spring, directly under the tree."

"Let's hear the rest again," David said.

"At the time of the solstice, there the good must make its stand," Bryony recited.

"Well, that's straightforward as well," Killian said, rubbing his chin with his fingers.

"And of course...we're the good guys," Emma remarked, raising her brows.

"Aren't we always, love?" He gave her a grin and she answered with a smirk. "Finish it off, Bryony."

"By that which blooms within you, and flows within your veins," Bryony repeated. She looked over at Finn.

He shrugged. "I'll wager that means us. We both know our heritage, so when they're talking about blooming or flowing, it's most likely directed at you and me."

She wet her lips, and continued. "Forged by magic they will conquer and peace will ever reign."

"We've established that both you and Finn are magical," Snow said. "So somehow you'll be using your powers to break the curse. But how?"

"What about the older prophecy?" Brandt chimed in. "The Northern Kingdom will only prosper when magic returns to the throne. Perhaps that's what needs to be done."

"You mean an overthrow?" David asked. "Depose the King?"

"It wouldn't be hard," Killian pointed out. "The man is destitute, without an army and living in a crumbling castle."

Brangane cleared her throat delicately. "You are the rightful heir to the throne, milady," she said, looking at Bryony. "If something were to happen to the king..."

Bryony sucked in her breath. "He's _not_ my father."

"No, he is not," Brangane agreed. "But he doesn't know that for a fact, as we do. He was unaware of the herbs I put in his wine. And by the rules of the land, he married your mother, and you were conceived during the time of that marriage. You are his full and legal heir, whether you bear his blood or no. You are a princess of the Northern Kingdom."

"I am not a princess," Bryony said firmly. "You can't just pin a title on me and make it be. I'm not."

Snow smiled, rolling her eyes over toward her husband. "Who does she sound like?"

"This is ridiculous," Bryony said, standing up. "Maybe there's something wrong that has nothing to do with curses, have you considered that? Maybe there's a chemical problem in the soil, or some kind of blight you don't know about. Maybe it's seeping into the water table and that's why the fish have stayed away. Have any of you actually looked into that?"

Emma shook her head. "That's not the way it works around here. If things have gone this bad, it's dark magic. The only thing that counters dark magic is light magic - magic like you have." She looked over at her son. "And like Finn has. And it's obvious that this curse is meant to be broken by the both of you."

"She's right, love," Finn said. "We've got a destiny, and it appears it's with each other. Let's get you on that throne, set things to right, and then we'll work out the rest of our destiny between us."

Emma's eyes widened, shifting over to meet Killian's who were just as wide under a set of highly lifted brows. That was as close to a declaration as they had ever heard from their son and it was startling. Snow was grinning ear-to-ear, David was trying to hide his smile while appearing to thoughtfully rub his chin, and Lorelei's mouth was hanging open. Finn didn't notice a bit of it - he was looking at Bryony.

Bryony didn't notice any of it either, because she was already walking out the door.

Finn stood up, ready to head after her, when his father put a restraining hand on his arm. "Patience, my boy."

"No," Finn said, firmly. "This time, you're wrong."

"Finn - " Emma started, but he cut her off.

"She's going to run."

He pulled his arm away from his father, and ran for the door.


	35. Revealed

She was already gone by the time he made it out into the yard. He knew where she was this time, though, and he was having none of it. He headed over to the tree, jumping up to get ahold of a low hanging branch and then planting his feet against the trunk to pull himself up. He scrambled up to the next set of branches, and nearly lost his footing when he heard her voice.

"What are you doing?"

It came from somewhere on the ground, and now that he was higher up, he could just make her out, sitting against the next tree over, with her back against the trunk. He glared down at her.

"I'm coming after you."

"Oh, really?" Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. "I want to be alone, Finn."

He slid back down, scraping his palms on the tree as he went. He dropped hard, ending up on his knees in the dirt.

"Damn." He brushed himself off, wincing at his bloody palms. Her voice came through the dark again.

"Are you okay?" He could hear her getting to her feet, and a moment later she walked over to him. "You cut your hands," she said.

"Do you want to have a go at healing them?"

She looked up at him. "I don't know how."

"Just put your hand over mine, and concentrate." He held his hands out to her, palms up.

Bryony took a step back. "I'd better not. This is your kind of magic, not mine."

He didn't lower his hands. "Try it," he encouraged. "Go on."

She reached out tentatively, placing her palms on top of his. Then she closed her eyes, and imagined his wounds beginning to heal. She felt a warmth beneath her palms, and opened her eyes to see a soft purple glow slowly dissipating back into the night. When she took her hands away, he was fully healed.

"There," he said. "Good as new. I knew you had it in you, love."

"I can heal." She said it with a wondering smile. "It really does work...my magic."

"After all you can do, you're doubting that you're magic?" He gave her an incredulous look.

"No," she said. "I know I'm part magical creature - we've established that. But other than the abilities that come along with that, I wasn't sure I could do any other magic."

"Well, I'm supposed to have Naiad blood within me, and I haven't been able to create whirlpools or hit someone in the face with a wave or anything." Finn shrugged.

Bryony cocked her head to the side. "How do you know that?" she asked. "Have you ever tried?"

"No," he said with a shrug. "Like you, I only just found out about my heritage."

"And how long have you known about me?" she asked.

"Well, now," Finn said, reaching his hand down to the ground and following it down. He settled in with his back against the tree. "That's a bit of a story. I can regale you with it, but you might as well get comfortable."

She looked at him but didn't move.

"Come on, love, I know you'd rather be down here, with your hands in the dirt."

She sank gracefully down next to him, putting her back to the tree, acutely aware of the heat of him against her right side. She reached out, burying her fingers into the ground with a satisfied sigh.

"There now," he said with a smile. "That's better, isn't it?"

"Yes." She leaned her head back against the tree. "So. Your story?"

"Well, unlike you, I didn't have the benefit of visions to tell me who you were. My parents were the source of what little information I got. My father gave me this ring," he held it up, looking at it. "When I was sixteen. I've worn it ever since. The evening that he gave it to me, I spilled pixie dust on it -"

"Pixie dust?"

"A gift from Lorelei. Her mother is a fairy, you know." Finn picked up a twig, idly drawing in the dirt with it. "Anyway, the pixie dust blew across my ring, giving me a glimpse of a different pattern." He reached across, rubbing his fingertip across Bryony's ring. "Roses. That was all I had to go on, until I my parents filled me in on the rest. We left for the Northern Kingdom two days after they did and I went through the portal the day we arrived."

"Why?"

"Why?" He turned his head to look at her.

"Why find me? You didn't know me. You weren't having visions of me your whole life long. You didn't even know who I was when you stepped through that portal," she pointed out. "This kingdom has no ties to you. Whether it prospers or falls, it won't affect you or your family one way or the other. I was only a baby when I was sent through. So why?"

He broke the twig up with his fingertips, considering. "Because I knew something was missing. I spent my life bouncing from one merry adventure to the next, and while it was all great fun, it wasn't getting me much of anywhere. D'you have any idea what it's like to grow up in a family of heroes? To always feel like I've got to live up to that?"

"Your family is wonderful, Finn."

"You think I don't know that? You think everyone doesn't know that? And here I am, my whole life long, feeling like I need to be with them, but never feeling like I truly belong there." He brought a knee up, resting his arm across it. "I've been waiting for something, anything, to come along and show me what the bloody hell I'm here for. And when we found the portal, when we stood there in front of it...I just knew. I was absolutely certain of it. I can't explain any better than that - I just knew I had to go through, and I had to find you."

Bryony gave a chuckle. "It was pretty freaky when you showed up. I thought I was having a vision again at first - that I'd zoned out at work or something."

He smiled. "I would imagine it was unsettling for you. You were just as unexpected for me, you know."

"Because I flipped you over my shoulder?"

"That was part of it," he said ruefully. "It hadn't occurred to me that you might be beautiful. Or that I would feel so connected to you. I thought I'd be able to help you do whatever it is we're to do, then drop you off on the doorstep at the castle and go on about my life, a newly-minted member of the hero club."

"And now here you are, stuck with me, in the middle of a dying kingdom, and neither of us knows what the hell is going on," Bryony pointed out.

He reached over, taking her hand and giving a tug until she rolled to her knees facing him. He reached out with his other hand, cupping her face.

"I can think of far worse places to be than stuck with you," he said softly. He slid his hand up to her neck, pulling her down and kissing her, his lips clinging to hers until he pulled back. "Let's go find that loft, love," he murmured, kissing her again.

She pulled back, and a frown creased her forehead.

"What?" he asked. "Don't tell me you're still worried about my parents? We'll be quite alone out in the barn, I assure you."

"No, it's not that," she said. "It's just..." she sat back on her heels. "Never mind. It's nothing."

He reached out, grasping her by the waist and lifting her until she sat straddled across his thighs. "What?" he asked.

"Can we stay outside?" Her eyes were shining, bright even in the darkness. They reminded him of moonlight on the open sea.

"All right, love," he said. He twined his fingers into her hair, pulling her mouth down to his again, and before too long, she was moving against him, making impatient noises in the back of her throat, and he was rock hard for her. pulling her tighter against him.

They managed together to work her boots and leggings off of her, and she pulled almost frantically at the buttons on his breeches between hot, burning kisses. His hands slid up her legs to her hips, urging her up and onto him, and he let out a low hiss as she pulled him free of his breeches, fitted him to her and then slid down onto him.

Her head tipped back and he moved his hands up under her shirt, squeezing and pulling at her breasts as she began to move. Her hands were on his shoulders, but she shifted them, twining them into his hair as she rolled her hips forward and he surged up to meet her again and again.

"Finn..." she said his name on a long moan and his hands shifted back to her hips, pulling her down on him hard. Her head dropped to his shoulder, and her fingers dug into his shoulders as rocked on him and squeezed him within her. His hands clenched her buttocks, molding her to him more tightly as their movements escalated. Finn's jaw clenched and he fought his every instinct to let go.

Her head came back up, and she leaned back, tossing her hair behind her. Her teeth bit down on her lower lip and she was so damned beautiful, he thought he might combust just looking at her. Her hands reached toward him, then past him, settling on the tree trunk behind him, her fingers digging and rooting into it, and then suddenly, suddenly it was as though he was staring into the sun. An incandescent wave rippled down her skin, traveling down her body to where they were joined, and an overwhelming jolt of intense pleasure went through them both, sending them over the edge, burning through them fiercely, endlessly until Finn was certain there was nothing left but a pile of ash.

Bryony slumped against his chest, her fingers slipping off the tree and down onto his shoulders as they both gasped for air in the aftermath.

"How - " Finn stopped, shaking his head a bit to clear it. "How is it that I'm still alive after that? Good _God_."

"That was incredible," she said, unable to raise herself up due to her still-trembling thighs.

He brought a hand up, flopping it limply onto her back. "I don't think I can move," he said.

"Then don't. I'm perfectly comfortable." She nuzzled her face into the open vee of his shirt. "Mmmmm. I suppose we have to move eventually."

He leaned his head down to drop a kiss on her hair. "As much as I hate to agree, we do need to at least make ourselves presentable, in case my grandparents decide to take their evening stroll." Bryony reluctantly shifted to the side, falling a little and laying on her back in the dirt. Her fingers dug into the soil next to her, and her eyes closed as she felt herself rooting in, drawing strength again from the earth.

"You have no idea how good that feels," she said.

"Yes, I do." Finn said, tossing her leggings across her stomach.

She turned her head to the side, grinning at him. "Oh, this is nothing compared to _that_. If I felt that every time I was out here, I'd never come back inside." She grabbed her leggings, wriggling into them, and then sat up, reaching for her boots. Once she'd gotten them on, Finn managed to stagger to his feet, and put a hand down to help her up.

"Easy, love," he said, sliding a hand around her waist and giving her a soft, lingering kiss. He pulled back, giving her slight smile. "Do you think you can walk?"

She chuckled. "Of course."

"Good," he said, raising a brow. "You can bloody well carry me, then." He draped an arm about her shoulders. "Let's go find some bedding and let me sleep this off. I feel like I've downed a bottle of rum and swum laps around my ship."

She slipped an arm around his waist, and they made their way back to the farmhouse. Neither one of them noticed the figure in the branches above them, sprinting and dancing through the leaves and boughs as he flew to his destination. At last he leaped, landing on the ground and running across the tops of the tall grass, finally slowing as he came to the foot of the massive oak.

A lone figure waited, gazing up at the moon between the branches.

"Speak," she said.

"Your majesty. Your suspicions were well-founded. She is who you think her to be."

"Bring her to me."

Roan paused. "There are...complications."

"Oh?" The Queen turned to face him, her displeasure clear.

"She's with a group of humans. She's formed an attachment to one of them."

The Queen looked alarmed. "Is it love?"

"Doubtful," Roan replied. "He's a human, after all. She has only recently learned that she is one of us. And for all the muddying of her blood, she is powerful. She and I have spoken - she is the product of two generations of true love, or so she claims."

The Queen drew in a sharp breath. "Now that _is_ interesting. Does she share her mother's gift?"

Roan nodded. "She has visions, yes." He reached out, stroking the trunk of the oak.

The Queen studied him carefully. "And?"

Roan's eyes gleamed in the moonlight.

"I'll have her," he said.


	36. Below The Surface

Brangane handed two quilts and two pillows out the door to Finn, then turned to smile warmly at Snow and David. "I'd be honored if you'd take my bedroom for the evening, your majesties," she said.

"Oh, no...please don't feel like you have to put yourself out for us," Snow replied. "We'll be comfortable wherever you put us."

"You're as much our royal family as you are in the Enchanted Forest," Brangane pointed out. "Please, I insist." She turned to Emma and Killian. "There's another bedroom at the end of the hall - the bed is a bit smaller, but you should fit."

"It'll be fine," Emma said, smiling.

"I'm sure we'll make do," Killian added, raising a brow at his wife. They all bid Brangane goodnight, and headed for their beds.

Brangane reached down into a large chest in the corner, retrieving another blanket and holding it out to Lorelei. "The remaining room is used for storage, but it's very small and only room enough for one. There's a tufted bench that would make a fine bed, your ladyship," she said.

"Then you should take it," Lorelei replied. "I can roll out my bedroll right here by the hearth."

"But, milady - "

"Please, call me Lorelei, I'm not nobly born," she explained. "And I'd feel terrible to have you on the floor. Besides, I'm not used to the cooler air here. It'll be warmer by the hearth."

Brandt stood up. "Well, I guess I'm sleeping outside, then." He rolled his eyes, not entirely thrilled at Lorelei's choice.

"Brandt, you take the room," Brangane said. "I'll sleep here by the hearth, as well."

"No, she's right," he agreed. "Your back isn't what it used to be. You can't be sleeping on the floor." He glanced over at the hearth, then at Lorelei. "I can bed down under the eaves outside."

Brangane gave him a fond smile. "Goodnight, then," she said, nodding her head at them both before leaving to find her own bed.

Brandt walked over to the chest, rummaging through and finding a blanket for himself.

He gave Lorelei a look. "I'll be out front, if you need me."

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Lorelei said, rolling her eyes. "You can sleep in here. I'm not going to bite."

"I assumed that for modesty's sake, you'd prefer not to have another man in the room with you - much less one you hardly know." He raised a brow.

"Emma and Killian trust you. That's good enough for me," she said with a shrug. Then her eyes narrowed. "And are you insinuating that I have no modesty?"

He held out his hands. "Did I say that?"

"You might as well have." She crossed her arms over her chest, staring him down.

Brandt let out a sigh. "I'll just sleep over here by the door."

"Fine."

"Fine, then."

He threw his blanket down on the floor as Lorelei shook out her bedroll. She leaned over, blowing out the candle before she settled herself down, pulling her blanket over her.

Brandt's voice broke the silence a moment later.

"I really didn't mean to insult you."

"It's fine."

He let out another sigh. "Why are you here, anyway? You said you're not noble. Are you a ladies' maid?"

Lorelei made a scoffing sound. "What - because I'm not noble I must be a servant? Is that it?"

"I'm just trying to understand," he said, in a thoroughly annoyed tone. "What are your stakes in this? Why help us?"

"I'm helping because it's the right thing to do."

There was a long pause, and Lorelei thought he might have fallen asleep.

"Thank you," he said. "Really. The kingdom is all but lost, and to have all of you here - it's more than I could have ever hoped for."

"You love it here." She said it curiously, as though she wasn't quite sure why.

"Don't you love your home? It may lay in ruins, but it's still my birthright." Brandt folded his hands behind his head. "It was a land of great beauty, once. And the kings and queens that sat upon the throne were marvelous and just." He rolled over to face her. "I'm named for a king, you know."

Lorelei rolled on her bedroll facing him. "Let me guess...he was one of the marvelous ones."

"You think me arrogant?"

She rolled back on to her back. "I don't know what to think of you." She fluffed her covers a bit, folding her hands across her chest. "Well, go on then. Tell me about him."

"Really?"

"I'm wide awake. It'll pass the time."

"Hopefully, I won't put you to sleep."

She turned her head. "Maybe that's exactly why I asked."

He gave her a reluctant smile, and began.

"Four hundred years ago, King Brandt was overseeing the rebuilding of a monastery, high in the mountains, along the river Yorn..."

###

Emma fluffed her pillow for the third time, but it was still painfully flat.

"Will you settle in?" Killian complained. "Every time you move I get an elbow in my ribs,"

"Sorry. This pillow is like a rock." She punched it again. "Come to think of it, a rock might be softer. Maybe I should go find one."

"And maybe," Killian said, pulling her down and across his chest, "You should just use your devilishly handsome husband as a pillow, instead."

She gave a sigh of contentment as she rubbed her cheek against him. "Mmmmm. Much better."

"Get some rest, love. "We've got a long journey back tomorrow."

"Are we really going to do this? Depose a king?"

Killian sighed. "It seems like the right thing to do. Perhaps he'll give it up peacefully. There's not much of a kingdom left to save, after all."

Emma grimaced. "To tell you the truth, I hope he doesn't. I'd like to hurt him a little."

"Indeed. The old blighter deserves a dire fate, and more, for what he did to Bryony's mother."

Emma pushed herself up to her elbow. "Speaking of Bryony...what do you think?"

"What do I think? I think she's bloody dangerous, that's what I think. My arm is still sore."

"I mean...her and Finn. What do you think?"

He raised a brow, looking up at his wife. "Does it matter what I think? Finn's already made up his mind."

"You think? I mean, it _seems_ like he's hung up on her - "

"He's a Jones, love. Once we've made up our minds, that's an end to it." He pulled his wife back down into the circle of his arms, turning on his side to face her. "Finn has set his course. It's only a matter of time."

"You're so sure of that, are you?"

He gave her a look. "He's a -"

"A Jones. I know. I withdraw the question."

"Good," he said, snuffing out the candle and lying back down. "Now let's see if those flat pillows can muffle the sounds I'm going to pull from you."

###

Bryony bit down hard on Finn's shoulder as she peaked, her nails digging into his back as he rode the wave of his own pleasure right after her. A few moments later, her leg was sliding down off of his hip and he pushed himself off her and onto his side.

"I'm going to sleep like a baby tonight," she mumbled sleepily.

"Why do people say that, anyway?" Finn asked, answering her with a huge yawn. "Have you ever been around a baby? I swear to you, Zale and Ondine used to wake up six times a night. I learned early on to make sure I was never babysitting alone."

"Don't tell me you saddled Grumpy with that job on the overnight?" Bryony chastised. "He's not a young dwarf, you know."

Finn chuckled. "No, no...nothing like that. I'd just walk them around the village or the market and wait for the girls to come to me. Babies are like that - women can't resist them. Then I'd get company for the evening, and they'd take over the children if there was an issue."

He realized a moment after he'd said it how completely awful that sounded.

"That's...devious." she remarked.

"It was," he agreed awkwardly. "It wasn't well done of me."

He suddenly felt like he was fourteen years old again, and being chastised by his father for promising to marry the cobbler's daughter in order to steal a kiss. The girl was heartbroken when he stopped talking to her a few days later, having lost the thrill of the chase. His father had flayed him alive with the edge of his tongue for that one, and he'd deserved it, though he hardly felt that way at the time.

"I would imagine you had plenty of volunteers," Bryony went on. "You just knew how to play them, that's all." She said it quietly, and it bothered him that she'd said it at all.

"Bryony, I - "

"No, it's all right, Finn. I understand. My father was a lot like you, strangely enough. Not my real father," she said hastily, "The man who adopted me. He always had some young co-ed or another babysitting me or taking me to the park for him. He just never got the hang of fatherhood. When my mother died, he didn't know what to do with me, I think. He was a popular professor, and a good looking man. He always had someone he could bring home who'd cook us dinner or do his laundry or entertain his kid so he didn't have to. I suppose they thought they could win him if they went through me." She pulled the blanket up, smoothing it down around her. "It was a stupid idea. He never could settle for just one of them."

"That sounds...lonely," he managed. God's truth, it sounded bloody awful. Her adoptive father sounded like a complete cad.

She made a non-committal noise. "Some of them were nice."

"And what about your father?" Finn asked. "Was he nice to you? When he did pay attention to you, I mean?"

He could feel her freeze, and the silence seemed to stretch for entirely too long.

"I spent my time trying to make sure he didn't notice me," she said flatly. "I'm tired, Finn."

She rolled over, facing away from him, and he laid there, staring at her back, feeling like he should be holding her, but afraid to touch her all the same. Mostly, he was replaying what she said over and over in his mind.

_My father was a lot like you..._

Eventually, his eyes drifted shut, and he rolled over, pulling her close to him.

_She was warm against the front of him, but he still felt the chill of the wet ground against his back. _

_He opened his eyes, and saw the figure, standing at the water's edge, where she had plainly been watching them. He reached down, shaking Bryony slightly, but putting a hand over her mouth to block the startled sound she made as she awoke. He pointed off at the figure, and her eyes went wide, meeting his._

_He rolled off her as noiselessly as possible, reaching for his boot and for the dagger he kept hidden there. Then he pulled his arm back, letting the blade fly._

_And Bryony looked at him with startled eyes, her hands gripping the handle of the dagger as it protruded from her chest. She'd leapt in front of him at the last minute, to keep him from striking. He screamed her name, reaching for her as she fell, but his arms were wrenched back, tangled in vines that were pulling him away from her, sliding up his shoulders to his neck and tightening. He saw her mouthing his name as the world began to dim and fade to black._

"Finn." She shook him. "Finn!"

He sat up with a gasp, throwing her back into the straw as he did so. He looked around, and it took a moment for his head to clear and his surroundings to register completely. He fell back again, throwing an arm over his face.

"We were dreaming again."

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"What the hell did that one mean?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I'm as lost as you are."

"Well do you have to bring me with you when your mind goes a-wandering? Bloody hell."

"I'm sorry," she repeated again, miserably. "I'll go find someplace else to sleep." She made a move to get up, but he reached up, pulling her down and across his chest.

"Apologies, love. I didn't mean that. Well, not like that, anyway." He kissed her forehead softly. "I meant to say that I wish you didn't have to have these kind of visions at all."

"If you'd rather sleep somewhere else, I understand," she said. "It's okay."

He reached down, twining his fingers with hers where they rested on his belly. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, love. Whatever these visions are, whatever they mean - it's better that we face them together."

She didn't answer him, but she didn't try to run, either. He supposed that was progress, of a sort.

He just wished he had more answers, about the future, about her...about all of it.


	37. Dance

Bryony opened her eyes, disoriented by the darkness at first until she remembered where she was. From the looks of the pale light bleeding in through the cracks between the boards of the barn, it was an hour or so before sunrise. Plenty of time to go back to sleep. She started to roll over, but Finn's arm was slung low across her waist, and it tightened on her as she shifted. She waited to see if he would wake up, but he only moved a little closer. He had the most amazingly long lashes. She wanted to lean over and kiss them - hell, she wanted to kiss all of him - but it was probably best for both of them if she let him sleep.

_I didn't realize I'd feel so connected to you, _he'd said. She didn't tell him so, but she knew exactly what he'd meant. Not that she had much of a choice, dreaming about him her whole life long. Neither one of them had much of a choice. That thought bothered her.

She closed her eyes, trying to convince herself that she was tired and she really ought to sleep. It was a losing battle. She felt like she was wide awake. More than that, she felt like she ought to - needed to - move. She twitched restlessly, then finally gave it up, easing herself out from under Finn's arm. She managed to find his shirt and put it on. It was decent enough, covering her to the tops of her thighs and while it dipped low between her breasts, it covered them as well. She made her way down the ladder from the loft to the floor of the barn and padded silently over to the door.

And then she stopped, listening. What was she hearing? The faintest whisper of a sound, like wind rushing through grass or rustling leaves. She froze, waiting, but it didn't get louder. It was familiar, yet not exactly. She opened the squeaky door carefully, with a glance up to the loft to be sure Finn was undisturbed, and then she stepped outside. Another step followed that one, and then another, and another, and before she knew it, she was running through the trees, dancing over stones and fallen logs and branches until she reached a wide-open meadow full of tall grass and the smell of the wildflowers that grew all around.

That was when she saw them. They moved so quickly, it took a second for her eyes to adjust. There were dozens of them jumping, leaping, running, twirling in wild abandon, their laughter carrying on the pre-dawn breeze. Her logical mind told her that she ought to be cold, but she wasn't cold at all. She felt energized in a way she hadn't felt before. She stepped through the grass, and as they caught sight of her, they all stopped, staring at her curiously, but not with any anger or malice. Bryony had no idea what to say, so she remained silent, staring back, until one of them broke away, stepping forward from behind the others.

"Roan!" She smiled, recognizing him. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting."

"Interrupting?" He looked at her curiously. "Aren't you here to dance?"

"Dance?"

"We gather every morn to dance in the dew. You felt the call, didn't you?"

Bryony nodded. "I think so."

"You're here," Roan pointed out. "You are one of us. Come and dance."

He held out his hand, giving her an encouraging smile. Bryony gave a quick glance over her shoulder, even though she knew there was no way anyone could have followed her, as fast as she had been running. She stepped forward, taking Roan's hand, and then they were off, flying through the grass and then up, to dance on top of it, skipping and whirling as he pulled her along and his hand came up, spinning her around and across into the arms of someone else, who threw an arm around her waist, circling with her as another grabbed her hand and she was pulled along in an endless circling chain. They danced through the grass and leaped into the branches of nearby trees, weaving through the leaves and then back down, arms flung up to the sky as the sun began to break over the horizon. Finally, they splintered off in ones and twos, running into the trees as daylight flooded the meadow, leaving Bryony panting and grinning as she came to a stop at it's center.

Roan stood a few feet away his bare chest glistening with perspiration as he closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. He opened them again to look at her.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

Bryony flung her arms wide, turning in a circle. "That was...amazing! Oh Roan, thank you!"

He stepped forward, reaching out to take her hand. "It was our pleasure," he murmured, pressing his lips to her fingertips, his eyes never leaving hers. "I hope you'll dance with us again."

"I'd love to," she said, smiling.

He gave her a slight bow. "Until then," he said. His hand lingered in hers a moment longer, and then in a blur of motion, he was gone. Bryony brought her hand up to wipe the perspiration from her overheated brow, and discovered she was clutching a handful of wildflowers - she hadn't even felt him press them there. Her fingers folded around them, and then she turned back toward the direction of the farmhouse, and ran.

Bryony had just broken through the trees when caught sight of Finn emerging from the barn. He was striding quickly toward the farmhouse, and she moved to intercept him before he could wake anyone up.

She skidded to a stop in front of him, and he reached out, steadying her so she didn't slam into him.

"Easy there, love. You nearly plowed into me."

"Sorry. I didn't want you start climbing trees again or waking anyone up." She looked over at the farmhouse.

"Knowing my grandparents, they're both up already. And where in the blazes were you?"

She looked down at the wildflowers clutched in her hand, then looked away. "I was...getting some flowers."

He took in her flushed face, and the sheen of perspiration that still clung to her skin. "Where? Back in the Enchanted Forest? You look like you ran there and back again." His look changed to one of consternation. "Aren't you cold? It's awfully chilly out here and you're hardly wearing anything."

"No, I was...running and climbing trees. I'm sorry - I shouldn't have taken your shirt."

He reached out, playing with one of the shirt laces. "No harm done. You look quite fetching." He stepped in closer, giving her a roguish grin. "It would be even better if you had nothing on beneath it."

"I don't," she said, raising her brows.

"What the devil!" He glanced over his shoulder. "What are you thinking? They're all most likely awake by now - we need to get you decently dressed."

Finn put a guiding hand at the small of her back. "Come on, then," he said. "Let's cover you up." He chuckled to himself. When had he ever voluntarily wanted to see a woman fully clothed before? He glanced down at her, wondering if she was interested in taking a little extra time getting her clothes on.

She was looking at the flowers in her hand.


	38. The Queen

They'd opted for an alternate route back to the castle, at Brangane's suggestion. If they made their way to the river, there was a village nearby, just on the other side of the border where they could procure horses. Killian, Emma and Brandt had made the journey on foot, since horses were scarce in the Northern Kingdom - the famine had seen to that.

They set out shortly after sunrise and managed to keep a pretty good pace, marveling as they walked at the clear and horrifying demarcation between the Northern Kingdom and the land beyond. It was as though someone had drawn a line and poisoned the earth on one side - grass grew, but sparsely and it looked as though it were nearing winter instead of summer. Fruit trees were mostly barren, and not much seemed to flower - a stark contrast to the lush fields and riotous colors of the trees, shrubs and wildflowers that seemed to abound just over the border.

They'd been walking a little over an hour when Finn walked ahead to speak with his father. It wasn't long before Bryony felt someone fall into step beside her. She smiled when she saw Lorelei.

"Enjoying your field trip?" She asked.

Lorelei gave her a curious look. "You take special trips just to visit fields?"

Bryony laughed. "No, it's an expression. When children visit someplace special on a school trip - for educational purposes or entertainment - they call it a 'field trip.'"

"Oh," Lorelei said. "I thought it was some Dryad thing. Visiting a field. Like dancing in the dew." She slid her eyes over toward Bryony, whose step had just faltered.

"You saw me?" She whispered.

"I saw you leave, and I assumed that's where you went. Dryads aren't the only ones who like to be outside, though I must say that fairies prefer twilight to dawn, in general." She made a face.

"I've never met any other dryads," Bryony felt compelled to explain. "And I've never danced like that before, ever. It was wonderful."

"Just be careful," Lorelei warned. "Dryads are very hedonistic creatures. Unlike the naiads, they don't have the calming influence of the waves. Everything is burning sun and blooming flowers and wind gusting them along. They tend to be impulsive and self-indulgent."

"It sounds like you've met some bad dryads."

"Not all of them are bad, but they're not known for their love of humankind," she pointed out. "They tolerate my human half only because of my fairy blood."

"Can I ask you a question?" Bryony glanced over at Finn, then chewed her lip for a moment. "Have you ever gone and spent time with them? The fairies? They're your mother's people, aren't they?"

"Yes, that's right. And I've spent some time with them here and there, but I wouldn't exactly call them family." Lorelei looked at her carefully. "You can embrace your heritage without having to give up the other parts of you, you know. The human parts."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning...be careful. That's all."

Finn had come back to join them, giving Lorelei a friendly bump with his shoulder. "What d'you think you're doing? Trying to scare her away?"

Lorelei smirked. "She's not that easily intimidated."

"You don't have to tell me," Finn agreed. He pointed off into the distance. "According to Brangane, the river is just the other side of that ridge. We can stop and have a meal in the village before we go." He looked down at Bryony with mischief in his eyes. "Do you want to ride with me again, love?"

"I think I can manage by myself now," she said.

"Pity."

They had just started up the ridge when the attack came, and it all happened so fast it was practically a blur. Figures swooped down out of the trees, vines were shooting everywhere, and within a matter of seconds, everyone but Bryony was securely lashed to a tree. A half-dozen dryads stood guard, as Roan dropped lightly to his feet in front of her.

"Who are you?" David demanded.

"Leave her alone!" Finn called out, struggling hard against the binding vines.

"Peace," Roan said, lifting a hand. "We only want to talk to her."

"Then why attack us?" Emma pointed out. "Let us go."

He looked at her as though studying an insect. "We desire a private audience."

"Roan." Bryony said softly. "There's no need for all this."

Finn's face clearly showed his confusion. "Wait - you know him?"

"We've met," Bryony answered awkwardly.

"Is he the one that pulled you up the tree?"

She nodded. "Yes. But he's not going to hurt anyone - are you Roan?"

He raised his brows, giving a distasteful glance around. "Not as long as they don't interfere." He stepped closer to her. "The queen desires an audience. It is customary for anyone of our kind who crosses into our land."

"When?"

"Now." His tone brooked no argument.

"If I go with you, will you release them?"

"You're not going anywhere alone," Finn said struggling again. "Let me go and I'll accompany her."

Roan didn't even bother acknowledging the human. "She'll come alone. The queen's presence is no place for humans."

"_I'm_ part human," Bryony pointed out. She looked around at the others. "Maybe it's best if you don't go - especially if humans are unwelcome there."

"All the more reason _you_ shouldn't be going alone," Finn pointed out. "How do we know they won't react to your human blood?"

Roan's lips thinned. "If we wanted to hurt her, we could have already. The queen merely wishes to greet her."

"So it's a matter of protocol," Killian said. "And Bryony, being partly dryad, needs to pay a diplomatic visit."

"Yes." Roan didn't bother looking at this human, either.

"Well then," Killian continued. "As a visiting representative of the royal family of the Enchanted Forest, you'll understand if Prince Finn would like to pay his respects, as well."

"Prince Finn?" Bryony couldn't help it, it popped out of her mouth.

"I _am_ a prince, love," Finn noted. "I just don't invoke the title often. And my father is correct. If it's a matter of protocol, then I should pay her a formal visit."

Roan finally turned to look at the rest of them, and his eyes swung to Lorelei. "Perhaps the fairy. No humans."

"You know they're right," Lorelei said, lifting her chin. "And by your own laws, his royal status grants him an audience - your prejudices notwithstanding."

Roan's face clearly showed his displeasure. "You confirm this?" he asked Bryony. "They are the royal family of the Enchanted Forest?" She gave him a nod.

"King David," David replied by way of introduction, then he gestured with his chin to each one. "My wife, Queen Snow, my daughter, Princess Emma, her husband, Sir Killian, and their son, Prince Finn."

Roan glared at Lorelei. "Very well." He looked over at his people. "Let them go."

The vines released, and Finn stepped forward, putting his hand on Bryony's arm. She didn't even notice, but for the look on Roan's face. His eyes moved down to where Finn's hand rested.

"Some humans," he murmured softly, giving her a smug look.

She pulled her arm free of Finn's grasp. "Where do we need to go? How long will we be gone?"

"She is nearby. Not long." Roan extended his hand, and she felt Finn tense next to her. She turned to David and Snow.

"We'll meet you in the village."

David gave a nod, turning his gaze to Roan. "If they're not back in an hour, we're coming to find you."

"No harm will come to them," Roan said evenly. "So long as the human behaves himself."

Finn could feel his parent's eyes on him even though he kept his own eyes steadily on Roan. "Let's go."

Bryony gave a nod, stepping around Roan's hand, and Finn followed close behind her. "I don't like this," he said in a low voice. "My gut tells me this isn't a good idea."

"You're just uneasy," she whispered back. "I've met some of them, and they were perfectly nice to me."

"To _you_," he pointed out.

"You should have stayed behind," she hissed. "Or have you forgotten I can take care of myself?"

"Are you mad? I'm not letting you walk off with some strange dryad," Finn replied.

"It's good that he _let_ you join us," Roan said, not bothering to turn around. "The queen doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Bryony squared her shoulders, picking up the pace. They made their way through the trees until they began to thin, opening to a meadow. A lone figure stood at the center, with her back to them.

"You may proceed," Roan said, inclining his head. Bryony started forward, but before Finn could take a step, a vine shot out, looping around his foot and anchoring him to the ground. "Not you," Roan added. "You wait here."

"How am I to pay my respects?" Finn asked, tightly.

"You can respect her from a distance," Roan said coldly. "She has no need to speak with you. I'll allow you to watch from here, since you appear to be...concerned."

Bryony looked back at Finn, whose eyes were telling her plainly that he did not like this one bit. She gave him a reassuring nod. "It's fine, Finn."

She stepped around Roan, who put a hand to the small of her back, guiding her forward. He turned to look over his shoulder at Finn with a slightly taunting smile.

Finn nearly tipped his hand then and there. It took all he had to keep from using his magic - which he could easily do - to get out of his bonds. He could feel it welling up inside him. He'd started to do so back with the others once he realized that Bryony was their target, but his mother had caught his eye and given a subtle shake of her head, signalling him to wait. It was a sound strategy. His every instinct was telling him that these dryads weren't to be trusted, but it was always best to leave something up your sleeve. So far, they seemed to have no ill intentions - toward Bryony, anyway.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm, and waited.

The queen remained as she was, waiting for Roan to direct Bryony around to the front of her. Bryony wasn't sure, but she felt like she ought to kneel or something. She settled for a curtsy, remembered from when she took dance classes as a child.

"Your majesty." She said. "It's an honor to meet you."

"You may rise."

"Thank you." She stood up again, and was very surprised to note that the Queen couldn't have been more than five years older than she was. She was beautiful, with dark red hair and the same bright green eyes all the dryads seemed to have.

"I am Alona," the queen said, introducing herself. "How is it that you came to be here?"

"I'm traveling with the royal family from the Enchanted Forest," Bryony replied. She looked back at Finn and gestured toward him. "Prince Finn is with me - he'd like the honor of meeting you personally, if he may."

"Unnecessary," She said dismissively. "It's you that I'm interested in. How many winters have you seen?"

"How many...?" Bryony was confused a moment before she realized what she was asking. "Oh. Twenty-five."

"And your people?"

"My father was human, but my mother was dryad - at least partly, we think. I don't know - I was taken from them shortly after my birth."

"And they royal family took you to the Enchanted Forest?" The queen asked sharply.

"No!" Bryony said, alarmed. "No, it wasn't like that. They're responsible for finding me and returning me here. We're hoping to help with the curse that's fallen over the Northern Kingdom."

"Really?" The queen drew herself up, looking Bryony over in a very calculated way. "Interesting."

She studied Bryony in silence, and Bryony did her best not to squirm out of sheer nervousness. Her head snapped up at the queen's next words.

"I knew your mother."

"Isolde?" Her eyes brightened. "I was going to ask, but I wasn't sure if I should."

"What do you know of her story?" The queen asked.

"I know she was taken against her will to the Northern Kingdom by King Markus."

"Hmmm." The queen acknowledged. "Your mother was loved by all among us," she added quietly. "We didn't find out who had taken her until it was too late. Not long after, the fish fled and the lands of the Northern Kingdom went fallow. And it is no less than they deserve," she added coldly.

Bryony's eyes widened with realization. "_You_ cursed the land."

"Yes."

"Well, you need to remove the curse. People are starving because of it."

"Humans." Alona made a scoffing sound. "They foul the soil and try to claim pieces of the land as if it is theirs to own."

"Please...your majesty...they need to be able to plant their crops. You need to lift the curse."

Alona looked amused. "Your human blood is affecting your judgement. However, it is your dryad blood that interests me." She inclined her head, ever-so-slightly. "You have a place here, with us. We will have you."

"I - " Bryony struggled to find words. "I appreciate that. But I promised to help the people I'm traveling with. I need to honor that promise."

"You owe them nothing."

"I owe them more than you know." Bryony lifted her chin, refusing to back down.

"Very well. Enjoy your stay in a barren kingdom. When you tire of it, we'll be here. We are your family, after all." She reached out, stroking Bryony's cheek softly. "You will always be welcome among us."

Bryony felt an unexpected lump in her throat. "Thank you."

The queen nodded at Roan, and he guided Bryony back across the meadow to Finn. He gave a command to the nearest dryad, who released him from his vines.

"There. As you can see, we honor our word. She's fine." Roan said, smugly.

"Let's get out of here," Finn reached for Bryony.

"Wait." She threw up her hand, stopping him. "Roan, you need to talk to the queen. Convince her to lift the curse."

"She cast the curse?" Finn asked.

"The one on the land," Bryony nodded. "I tried to appeal to her, but I didn't get far."

"What makes you think I would go against my queen?" Roan said. "None of us will. Not for the humans."

"Let's go," Finn bit out.

"You'd better do what he tells you," Roan said, his eyes holding Bryony's. "Otherwise you might be tempted to visit with your family. Maybe even get to know us."

She stared at him until Finn's voice broke in once more.

"We're going." His hand reached down, and with a tug, he pulled her along. She looked over her shoulder as she walked away, and Roan stood silently, watching her go. He turned at last, making his way back over to the queen's side.

"She looks like her mother," Alona said. "Save for her human eyes."

"And she didn't stay," Roan pointed out. "What now?"

She slid her eyes sideways to look at him. "Convince her. Call to her blood. Make her yours."

"I have your blessing?"

"She is yours by my decree. You need only seal it."

"Thank you, your majesty." He gave a short bow as she started to go, but she turned back to address him once more.

"You know what to do, Roan. We need her gifts among us. Seal her to you - by whatever means you must."


	39. Downriver

They walked back most of the way in silence, which was just fine with Bryony - she needed to get her thoughts together. It wasn't until they crested the ridge and were looking down on the village that Finn finally turned to her and spoke.

"You've met him more than once." He said.

She didn't see any point in denying it. "Yes."

"Were you planning on letting us in on your new-found friendship?"

"Roan was just introducing me to my mother's people, which, coincidentally, is all the queen wanted - to welcome me."

"Some welcome," Finn retorted. "Did it occur to you that you put my family in danger? You're keeping secrets about people who aren't exactly friendly to our kind."

"Your _kind_?" She stopped in her tracks.

"You know what I mean," he argued. "Humans."

"_I'm_ human. Or don't you see that anymore, now that you know what I really am?"

"You know that's not what I'm saying," he said with true exasperation. "I feel like you're keeping things from me, and if we're to set things right here, we all need to be able to trust each other."

Bryony flushed a bit after that one. He was right. "I only kept it to myself because I thought you'd have an issue with them. They won't harm anyone, least of all me. They're just a bit snobbish, like Lorelei said." She looked up at him, willing him to understand. "Finn, they're my family. Can you understand that?"

He reached out, touching her face. "I understand family, love. And I won't keep you from them, if you want to see them. I'm just asking you to be careful. Something just doesn't feel right about this Roan fellow."

"He's been a perfect gentleman," she said.

"Take it from me, love, the gentlemen are the ones you have to look out for."

###

"So the dryad queen cursed the land," Lorelei said. "In retaliation for Markus taking Isolde?" She reached for another piece of fruit from the platter that the tavern keeper had placed on the table.

"I don't know why I've never thought of it," Brangane said. "It makes perfect sense. I suppose I never realized the dryads were powerful enough to do that."

"Well, it's not as though you ever see them," Snow remarked. "They keep to themselves and don't interact with humans, in general. At least, not in our kingdom."

"I've never seen one before you, Bryony," Emma admitted. "And our kingdom is pretty big on magical creatures."

"Not only did she level the curse," Bryony added, "She has no intention of lifting it. She was firm on that point."

"I would imagine that she was," Brangane said thoughtfully. "Isolde was her daughter."

"What?" Snow and Emma spoke at the same time.

"You two aren't the only royalty at this table, my ladies," Brangane said, tentatively. She reached across, putting her hand over Bryony's. "Your mother told me in confidence that her mother was queen of the dryads. She wanted me to take you to them, if anything happened to her or Tristan."

"That's what the queen meant," Bryony said, almost to herself. "She told me they were my family...I thought she meant in a figurative sense." She looked at Brangane in confusion. "How can she be my grandmother? She doesn't look much older than me."

"She's immortal," Lorelei reminded her. "She doesn't age once she's reached her peak."

"So if you and I hadn't knocked her into that portal," Emma said to Brangane, "Bryony would have been raised with them?"

Brangane nodded. "Most likely."

"I can't be a princess," Bryony said, shaking her head.

Emma reached for the bottle of wine on the table, pouring a healthy splash into a cup and shoving it toward Bryony. "Well, from one princess to another, welcome to the club."

Bryony smiled in spite of herself. "Thanks. As if I didn't have enough to take in, right?"

"Quite a transition from the old world to this one, huh?" Emma gave her a smirk. "Don't worry, you'll work it all out."

"Work what out?" Finn asked, having just entered the tavern with the rest of the men behind him.

"Being a princess," Emma answered. Finn's face began to spread into what would have been a delighted grin, then he realized they hadn't been discussing him. His mother didn't miss a second of the play of emotion across his face, however. She leaned back in her chair.

'It turns out Bryony's mother was the dryad queen's daughter." Emma informed them all as they found seats and started digging into the food.

"What?" Finn's eyes swung to Bryony's.

She put up a hand. "Don't freak out on me - I didn't know until just now, either. She didn't tell me."

"Brangane told us," Snow said. "Isolde had confided in her."

Killian helped himself to a slice of roast beef, passing the platter on to David. "Well, now her curse makes sense. And now we've got two curses cast purely because of that despot on the throne."

"Maybe that's it," David suggested. "Maybe if we get Markus out of the picture, the queen will re-think her curse. Is there any way to reach out to Ursula, to get her to do the same?"

Killian's eyebrows went up. "One doesn't reach out to Ursula. One avoids Ursula. A sea deity that's over a thousand years old is no one you want to irritate, mate."

"What about Kai?" Emma suggested. "Has he had any dealings with her?"

"Doubtful," Killian replied. "And for good reason. She might get angry all over again just for being reminded of the damned curse."

"Or...she might be completely misunderstood," Snow suggested.

Finn smiled, shaking his head. "Leave it to my grandmother to look for the best in everyone." He passed a bowlful of bread to his father, then leaned in to Bryony.

"So...you're a princess," he said in a low voice.

"It looks that way."

"What a coincidence. I'm a prince, you know."

Her lips twitched. "Is that a fact?"

"Oh, yes," he said. "And since you're new to the whole royal experience, I'd be happy to serve as your personal tutor."

She slid her eyes sideways. "How kind of you."

He lowered his voice even further. "We can begin tonight, if you'd like. I have some ideas..."

"No horses!" Emma's voice cut into their conversation. "So we're back to hiking, I guess."

"They'd just taken a group of them on to market," David said apologetically. "The stablemaster had one horse he could sell us to carry our packs, if we need it."

"We did find another alternative, though it's not without risk," Brandt added. "We could go by boat."

"I thought people didn't travel the river much. You said it's too rough." Lorelei reminded him.

"It is rough," Brandt agreed, "But we'll be going downstream, and we have the benefit of not just one but two ship's captains on board."

"Whoa - wait a minute, here," Emma said, holding up a hand. "We're buying a ship? Another ship?"

"Not a ship, love," Killian said, shaking his head. "A boat. There's a difference. This one can hold a dozen at most, and while there's a rudder, it has but one sail."

"And you think we can make it there safely?" Snow asked.

Killian gave her a look. "With Finn at my side? Most certainly. And in half the time, too."

"I vote boat," Emma said.

"Sounds like a solution to me," Snow agreed.

"Good," said David. "Because I already bought the boat. We'll leave when we're done eating."

###

Bryony sat back on the low bench seat and just enjoyed the view. If she'd thought him handsome before, Finn on the water was a breathtaking sight. The wind caught his hair and the way the muscles of his back and arms flexed and pulled as he worked the sail - it was mesmerizing. He had an instinctive feel for the shift of the wind, just like his father seemed to read the water before him and work the rudder to avoid the larger rocks or make the most of the whirling currents. They moved together almost as one, father and son and the water below them. There was no doubt as to the influences of their bloodline - not when you saw them like this.

"I never get tired of it, either," Emma said, settling herself down on the bench next to Bryony. "Watching them on the water. They were born for it."

Bryony turned to smile at Emma. "Finn says he was born on land."

Emma smiled."Yeah...he was a bit of a surprise. Doesn't change much for him, though. The sea is in his blood."

"He thinks that's why he's so restless. And me, for the same reasons."

Emma's eyes brightened with understanding. "You were born in the water? On the beach?"

"My mother was trying to get into the safety of the caves at the water's edge. The tide was coming in, and she didn't make it to dry ground. She birthed me into the water and Brangane fished me out."

Emma quirked a brow. "Interesting."

"Please. No more talk about destiny." Bryony looked away. "I just want to get through this and then go home. Maybe go back to a normal life again."

Emma gave a smothered laugh, biting down on her lip to stifle it.

"What?" Bryony asked.

"Nothing. I just - " Emma chewed her lip thoughtfully, trying to think of the best way to say what she wanted to say. "Look, I know how you feel. I was raised in the other world, too. I had a nice, normal life. It was safe. But it's not my life, and not what I was born to be. You can't run away from that."

"I'm not running away," Bryony retorted. "I'm making an educated decision about my future."

"No, you're making a panicked decision," Emma said, raising a brow. "I know. I tried to make that decision, too at one point in my life. But I underestimated a couple of things."

Bryony gave her a look. "Like what?"

"Like how good it is to finally find a home," Emma said. Her eyes shifted to the rear of the boat, and her husband smiled over at her. "And the power of finding a kindred soul." She turned to look at Bryony. "Maybe all of this - the kingdom, the dryads...Finn...maybe they're not ultimately your destiny. But you owe it to yourself to make absolutely sure of that."

"You think Finn is my destiny?" Bryony asked softly. Her eyes wandered back over to where he stood at the boom, adjusting the sail. He gave her a grin that made her feel warm all over.

Emma didn't miss that grin or Bryony's reaction. "I think you knocked him on his ass the first time you met him, and that alone makes me think you're his destiny." She gave Bryony a smirk, and pushed herself up to her feet, only to be thrown back down to the bench as the boat suddenly bucked beneath them.

"Whoa!" She exclaimed.

"Better batten down," Finn called out. "Rough water ahead."

"I see it," Killian confirmed, raising his voice to be heard over the rapidly churning water. "Tie off the sail - I'll need you on the bow."

"I'm on it," Finn called back, having already secured the boom. "Everyone brace yourselves!"

He moved up to the bow, calling out course corrections as the boat pitched and rocked violently to and fro. Byrony watched Lorelei grabbing onto the side of the boat, and she did the same, feeling herself coming unseated from the latest bump in the waves.

Suddenly, Finn's voice screamed out "Dropoff!" and the boat fell out from beneath her, tearing her hand away from the side. Everyone started to fall in a jumble, but the ship had pitched low to one side - the side that she and Lorelei were on. A second later, she was over the side, and the water closed over her head. She managed to feel the hull as it slid by and got her head above again, reaching a hand high above her to latch on. She could hear Finn scream her name, and made out a figure going over the side next to her, realizing it was Brandt.

She clung to the hull but the boat was slamming her into the rocks as they passed, nearly blinding her with pain and she didn't know how much longer she'd be able to keep her grip. The water slapped at her face again, and she dragged in a lungful of it, coughing hard and nearly blacking out. She felt her fingers slipping...slipping...

Then suddenly, the boat stopped.

Bryony could feel the current still swirling and tugging madly at her back, but the boat was stopped dead in the water, like something was holding it there. She felt the hand close over hers again, and then she was being hauled over the side, coughing and trembling, engulfed in one of Finn's arms. She turned her head, coughing out more water, registering the shouts and sounds activity all over the boat. She managed to open her eyes, taking a moment to focus as she saw first Lorelei, then Brandt being pulled over the side, and then her eyes shifted up to Finn.

He still had her wrapped in one arm, but the other was extended out, his fingers splayed toward the water, and a moment later, Emma landed on her knees at Bryony's side.

"You okay?"

Bryony managed a nod, before coughing a little more. She reached down, gasping in pain.

"Hold on," Emma's hands moved softly over her torso. "I think you've got some cracked ribs." She extended her hand, closing her eyes, and a moment later, the pain was gone.

"Thank you," Finn said, his voice a bit strained. "I can't manage to do that at the moment."

"Finn - _you're_ doing this?" Emma asked, her eyes wide.

"It certainly feels that way," he gritted out. "And I'm not going to be able to hold it forever."

"Can you smooth a path for us, until we get around that bend?" Killian asked.

Finn nodded. "Let's try." He stepped carefully toward the front of the boat, not taking his eyes off the water before him, and the water took his direction, rippling out on either side to create a path of flat, straight sailing ahead. He stayed at the bow until the surface evened out, guiding the boat gently over to the riverbank.

"We're taking on too much water," he said over his shoulder.

Killian was already leaned out over the side, scanning the boat with his eyes. "We've breached the hull," he said, pointing. "Just there. Everyone out."

Finn leaped over the side, grabbing the line and pulling the boat in closer to the shore. He held it there, still using his power to still the water as they each climbed out and slogged up onto the riverbank. Once they were all safe, Killian and David hauled the boat up onto the land, then collapsed on the grass next to everyone else, panting heavily.

"Bloody hell," Killian said, reaching for Emma's hand.

"My sentiments exactly," Finn repeated, making his way over to Bryony. "Are you all right, love?"

She gave him a nod, laying back on the grass and feeling her fingers root down into the earth. It was just what she needed. She was feeling much better already.

"Lorelei? Brandt?" Finn called out. "Are you all right?"

Lorelei managed to sit up, pushing her hair back off her face. "I'm all right." She looked down at Brandt. "What were you thinking, jumping in after me like that?"

He opened one eye and looked at her from where he lay on the grass. "I was thinking that I didn't want you to drown."

"You could have been killed!"

He coughed a little, rolling to his knees. "You're welcome," he said, pulling off his shirt so that he could wring it out. Lorelei's eyes widened at the sight of his bare chest. A chest that she, incidentally, had no idea looked like that under his shirt.

She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "Thank you."

His eyes held hers a moment, and she couldn't look away.

"You owe me," he said, giving her a wink. She looked away so he wouldn't see the smile pulling at her lips.

"So now what?" Killian asked. "We've got another water god in the family?"

"Looks that way," David said. "Finn, that was amazing."

"I'm impressed," Snow agreed. "How did you do that?"

"Damned if I know," he said, with a shrug. "I saw Bryony and Lorelei go over the side and it just...welled up inside me. Like it was just waiting for me to figure out how to use it."

Emma nodded thoughtfully. "Magic is instinctive - that's what Regina always taught me. You feel it in your gut, and emotions can trigger it."

"Like when I saw Zale falling," Bryony reminded him.

"Well, that'll come in handy, the way he and his sister gad about," Finn remarked. "Now we've got them covered on land and sea."

"Oh, you won't need to trouble yourself over them and the sea, lad," Killian said, shaking his head. "They're Gemini. And they already swim like fish."

Brangane's hand stilled as she tended to a cut on Brandt's forehead. "Gemini?"

"Water twins," Snow explained. "Anytime there's a mix of magical blood in the water realm, there's a chance of having very special twins - the Gemini. They're hard to explain...it makes them closer than most twins, and they have a special magic all their own - I guess they'll grow into that."

"God help us all," David intoned. "And with third generation true love to back it, I would imagine they'll be pretty powerful."

"I'm having some rum now," Killian said.

Emma grabbed the flask out of his hand. "Don't be a rum hog." She took a drink and handed it back. "So now what? How much further on foot?"

Brangane pointed off to the left. "If we follow the river, we'll have to cross marshlands and that will slow us down." She pointed a little further left. "Over that ridge is the village of Indes, and from there we can follow the road. We should be at the castle by nightfall."

"Walking in wet shoes. Wonderful." Emma pushed herself up to her feet, and the others joined her. "Lead the way."

Bryony looked up at Finn, who'd extended a hand down to her. She reached down, pulled off her boots and then jammed them into her pack. She took Finn's hand, standing for a moment and wriggling her toes in the grass.

"Ahhh. That feels _so_ good." She looked at him curiously. "Is this how you feel? On the water?"

He nodded. "Yes. Just like that."

She gave him a sly grin. "I wonder if you can do other things...in the water."

Finn's eyes darkened as he remembered their dalliance under the tree. "We'll just have to try that out sometime."

"You're on."

He took in a deep breath, pulling her along and trying to ignore the way his groin instantly responded to her words. Bryony gave a cheeky grin behind his back until a movement in the trees nearby caught her attention. She turned her head and saw Roan, high up in the branches of a nearby tree, arms crossed, quietly observing. She answered his nod of greeting with one of her own before he disappeared from view again.

Brandt was shouldering his pack when Lorelei walked up, and he started a bit as she put her hand out to touch his forehead.

"Be still," she chided. A rainbow of colors danced in front of his eyes, and a moment later, the stinging in his head was gone.

He reached up, feeling that the cut had been healed. His bruises were gone as well - in fact, he felt good all over.

"Thank you," he adjusted his pack, smiling at her.

"Now we're even," Lorelei said, starting forward to follow the others.

"I saved your life," he reminded her. "You can do better than that."

She shook her head, and then kept on walking.


	40. Distraction

_**Hello everyone, and once again, thank you SO MUCH for reading this far! Finn has a lot more to tell you, and once he's done, I do believe I'm going to do a quick five chapter fic for those of you who've been clamboring for Aven's story (Eight Nights At Sea). And then...well, I'm not really sure. Rest assured, it will be entirely Captain Swan, but I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with it yet. I'll keep you posted. **_

_**I really do want to thank all of you for taking the time to comment. You can't know how much it means to me, particularly this week. I just got my first rejection on the book - an agent, though, not an editor. He's just not looking for a book like mine, though he did say he thought it was a good book. Or maybe he says that in every rejection letter. I try to remind myself that JK Rowling got fourteen rejections on Harry Potter before someone finally took a chance on her. Not that I can compare myself to her, but it reminds me not to give up. And then I reread my reviews and I feel much better and I sit down, and I keep on writing.**_

_**So thanks again. You all make me better and I can't thank you enough. Now, enough of my blathering. Back to our story...**_

* * *

They arrived in the village just as it was getting dark, and Brandt made quick work of getting a fire going and putting some dinner together for them at the tavern. They were all footsore and more than a little uncomfortable from walking in wet clothes. Snow pulled off her boots with loud sigh of relief.

"That feels so much better," she moaned. "I haven't had to walk that far in _years_."

"It's been a while since we've seen an adventure," David acknowledged.

"Can't say that I've missed them," Emma replied.

"Nor I," Killian chimed in, finishing the last of his stew. "And as much as I'd like to stay here with my feet up by the fire, I need to check on my ship."

"Didn't you have Emma put a protection spell on it?" Lorelei asked, reaching for the heavy bowl of stew on the table. Brandt picked it up, ladeling a portion into her bowl.

"I could have done that," she said, giving him a look.

"You don't care much for chivalry, do you?" He remarked, slicing off some bread and adding it to her plate. "A simple 'thank you' will suffice."

Lorelei looked across the table at Snow, who immediately dropped her eyes and began buttering bread.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Brandt smiled, passing the stew across to David as Killian answered Lorelei's question.

"Yes, there's a spell on the ship, but I'd rather be sleeping aboard at any rate. Emma and I will be back for breakfast and we'll formulate our plans then."

"Sounds good," David agreed. "Let's all get a good night's sleep."

Emma stood up. "Finn? You coming?"

Finn glanced down at Bryony, who was sleeping soundly with her head against his shoulder. "We'll stay here." He brought his hand up, stroking Bryony's hair. She nuzzled closer, in her sleep.

Emma gave him a very knowing smile. "All right. We'll see you in the morning." Killian stood up to join her, looking over at Finn and raising an eyebrow. Emma gave him a nudge, and they they headed out the door.

Brandt stood up, and began collecting plates.

"There are six rooms above," he offered. "The two to the left down the hall are the largest, and the four single rooms are on the right."

"I'll help you clean up here," Brangane said, getting to her feet with a groan.

"No," Lorelei said. "Please, let me. You get some rest."

Brangane's eyes shifted to her brother, then back again. "I'd be grateful to get out of these clothes and into a soft bed," she said. "Thank you." She gave Lorelei's hand a squeeze and walked up the stairs.

David stood, then he looked over at Bryony and smiled. "She's had a hell of a day. And so have you, for that matter."

"That we have," Finn agreed.

David gave a half-chuckle, helping his wife to her feet.

"What?" Finn asked.

David shook his head. "I just know that look. Never thought I'd see it on your face, though."

"Well, I always knew the day would come," Snow said smugly.

"And what day is that?" Finn asked, raising a brow.

"The day that love would find you," she said, giving him a blinding smile. "And it did."

"Snow..." David said, nudging her discreetly.

"What?"

"We should get to bed," he said, guiding her toward the stairway. "Goodnight, everyone."

Finn reached down, pulling Bryony into his arms and lifting her. "We'll be going, as well," he said. "See you in the morning."

Brandt and Lorelei called out their goodnights, and kept on clearing the table. Brandt brought a large bucket of water over and poured it into a tub, tossing in soap and a rag.

"I'll wash if you'll dry," he offered. Lorelei gave him a nod, and he rolled up his sleeves, reaching for a stack of plates.

"Snow tells me you're royalty," Lorelei said, taking a plate from him and drying it. "Why haven't you reclaimed your throne already?"

"It's not that easy, unfortunately," Brandt said. "My grandfather and father both tried, but couldn't rally support to do it."

"Doesn't everyone hate King Markus?"

"Now they do," he said. "But there aren't many people left to rally. And even if my family regained the throne, there's not much of a kingdom left to save, with the curses upon the land and sea. What we need is magic upon the throne - magic like Finn has. Or Bryony. Both are royal, both have a legitimate claim to the throne. They can save us."

She put another plate on the stack, pausing a moment to look at him. "You love this place, don't you?"

"What? The tavern?"

She rolled her eyes, smiling. "No. The kingdom."

"It's beautiful land - or it was, once. I grew up on stories of it in it's prime." He smiled to himself. "It was once a great kingdom, and I know it can be again." He handed her the last plate, then reached for a towel to dry his hands. "Would you like to see something?" he asked.

"All right," she nodded. He reached for her hand, leading her toward the back of the kitchen, and a door that led down to the cellar. He lit a lantern, stepping carefully down the stairs as she followed behind him. Once they reached the bottom, he walked to the corner, past shelves full of jarred preserves and dried meats to where a large trunk sat up against the wall. He handed her the lantern as he unlocked it, pulling the lid back.

Lorelei gasped. There was a large oil painting inside, and as Brandt pulled it out, she could see there were more beneath it. She held the lantern closer so that she could get a better look, and it was even more beautiful as she studied it. The castle, gleaming like a white marbled fortress over the blue, blue water. Green grass and white-capped mountains and flowers everywhere. The harbor was full of merchant and fishing boats, the market filled with colorful tents and gaily gowned ladies. The pennants at the castle were deep, rich burgundy. There was color and life everywhere and the crags and sheer cliffs of the fjord were amazing. Picture after picture, he brought out of the trunk and lined against the wall, telling stories of a wondrous kingdom that was, once upon a time.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

'Isn't it?" he agreed, smiling. "And it can be, again. I've never lost my faith in that. Ever." He reached in the trunk, pulling out a small velveteen bag. "All we need are the right people on that throne."

"What's in the bag?" she asked, curiously.

"What little is left of the royal jewels. I've kept them safe, until they can be returned to the new king and queen." He shook the pouch, pouring its contents into his palm. A large signet ring with a fat ruby at its center, a smaller, thinner band bearing the same signet and ruby, a few necklaces, and a delicate circlet, encrusted with rubies and diamonds were all that remained.

"They're lovely," Lorelei said. "May I?" He nodded, and she reached out, touching the circlet, tracing the scrollwork and patterns upon it with her fingertips. "The workmanship is flawless," she said.

"It was to have belonged to my grandmother," he said, quietly, before sealing it back inside the bag and returning the bag to the trunk. "Had my grandfather ever regained the throne. Instead, she was a farm wife, with rough hands."

"There's nothing wrong with rough hands," Lorelei said. "I've known many good people who weren't royal. All of them were valuable. And it takes all of them to make a kingdom great."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "Maybe I should just set you on the throne and be done with it. You talk like a born leader."

"Well, I do still owe you," she reminded him with a smile.

"Yes," he said, reaching for her. "You do."

And then his mouth came down on hers, and she pressed herself into him. He held her tightly to him as the kiss went on and on. Finally, he ended it, but he didn't let her go.

"You, my lady, are a distraction," he murmured against her lips. "And I can't really afford one right now."

Lorelei took a deep breath. "You've got a kingdom to fix."

"And you have a home of your own to return to."

She nodded. "Yes, I do. It's probably best we forget that this happened."

Brandt stepped back, releasing her. "You're right, of course. Probably best." He reached down, picking up the paintings and loading them back into the trunk. He took the lantern back, gesturing for her to precede him up the stairs.

"I can see you to your room, if you'd like," he said, stopping on the main floor.

"No, that won't be necessary." She wouldn't meet his eyes and kept on walking. "Goodnight."

He watched her go, fighting the urge to call her back.

###

Killian rolled his head on his shoulders wearily as Emma lowered the protection spell around the ship.

"It'll be good to back in my bed again," he said. "I'm almost too tired to give you a proper bout of lovemaking."

She looked at him over her shoulder. "Almost?"

He came up behind her, settling his hands on her waist and nuzzling her neck. "Almost. But not quite."

"Then we'd better get inside." She leaned back, rubbing into him suggestively.

"Damn. You're quite persuasive when you want to be, love." He stepped around her, grabbing her by the hand and leading her up the gangplank and then down into the Captain's Cabin.

And then he stopped dead in his tracks. Drawers were standing open. The trunk at the foot of the bed was open and the contents had been obviously rifled through.

"I don't understand," Emma said, turning slowly in a circle. "The protection spell was still standing."

Killian walked over, looking through the trunk and scanning the contents of the drawers. "Obviously, someone strong enough to break the spell and then re-cast it was here."

He continued moving about the cabin, looking through drawers and open cabinets, then finally ending up at his desk.

"What were they looking for? Is anything missing?"

"Yes." He flipped some papers over on his desk. "It looks like they only took a map - specifically, a map of the kingdom."

"This kingdom?" Emma looked confused.

"No - the Enchanted Forest." He looked around the cabin once again. "And that's not all." He strode over to the cabin wall, where a frame stood empty, the picture within it having been cut out of it.

"Our family portrait," Emma said, her eyes growing wide. "We just had that painted. Why would anyone want that?"

Killian's jaw tightened. "I don't know, love. But it can't be good."


	41. The Beach

Finn carefully laid Bryony down in the bed, removing her boots and the rest of her clothing before taking off his own clothing and sliding in next to her. Bryony must've been exhausted - she didn't stir once from the time she fell asleep.

He pulled her in, settling her against his chest as he mulled his grandmother's words over and over in his mind.

_I always knew the day would come...the day that love would find you..._

Did he love Bryony?

He cared for her, and more than he'd ever thought he could care for someone who wasn't family. He'd always loved women in general, loved their bodies and their amusing ways and everything they did for him and to him, but he'd never really found one that stood out from the others.

It's not that he didn't believe in true love, after all. He lived with it on a daily basis. It shaped his life and touched it with magic. He assumed he'd find it himself someday, but someday was never a priority and it was always somewhere off in the hazy and distant future.

Now he'd found his destiny, and there was no doubt that's what she was. His life was twined around hers and had been since before he was born. Some of that was fate, but some of that was choice, and he knew that his choices were being tempered with thoughts of her and their future together. He couldn't imagine it any other way now.

But was it love yet? It felt too new, still. Too uncertain, especially with Bryony involved. He pulled her closer, kissing her forehead, his hand stroking down her back. He didn't know what to call it yet. He only knew that they belonged together, and that was an end to it. He refused to analyze it anymore than that.

She was here and warm in his arms and he wasn't going to let her run from what they could become together.

He kissed her again, and his breathing deepened, and soon, he was asleep.

_He was caught in a __long, rushing, pulsing river, and he had to get to Bryony, He could hear her, along with other voices, indeterminate shrieking and her voice, soothing. But how would he find her? It was like he was in a maze and the river forked in several directions, slapping against rock walls everywhere he looked. He managed to slow himself in the current, staring ahead at where the river split. Which way? Which way?_

_And then he saw it, the merest flicker of green out of the corner of his eye - there! Floating in the water!_

_He swam strongly, using the current to aid him as he reached the edge of the vine, following it until he saw them, two fish, struggling madly, wrapped in the vine. He heard Bryony's voice and could hear that she was trying to pull them in, but the current was pulling them off toward another fork, slapping them into the walls. He worked feverishly, freeing them and swimming them to safety in a nearby tidal pool, then he turned to go and help Bryony._

_He swam back for the vines, reaching out to them as they wrapped around him, pulling him down, down, down..._

_He heard her screaming as he fought to get his head above the water._

_"Finn! Finn!"_

Finn sat up, gasping. Bryony was next to him, sitting back on her heels in the bed, hands pressed hard over her face and shaking all over.

"Finn," she sobbed. "Oh, God."

"It's all right," he said, sliding an arm around her shaking shoulders. "I'm here. It's all right." He put wrapped his other arm around her, still breathing hard, as though he were still fighting for air.

"I saw you," she sobbed. "I saw you but I couldn't get to you, I couldn't get to you." She rocked back and forth, still fighting the remnants of the dream.

Finn reached down, lifting her tear-streaked face. "Have you had this one before?"

She nodded. "In the carriage. On the way here. I was...helping the fish - they were trapped."

"And I was rescuing them from your vines," Finn added. "Then I got entangled. I was..." he paused a moment, remembering. "I was rescuing you, too."

She gave a shudder. "Last time I dreamed..." she shook her head.

"Go on. love," he urged. "Let's hear it all. We need all the clues we can put together."

"You drowned," she said, unable to look at him. "You had vines around your neck. I must've killed you. I killed you."

"No. You don't know that." His voice was firm.

"Yes, I do. You were dead because of me," she whispered, her voice filled with anguish. "Just like always."

He lifted her chin again, forcing her eyes to meet his. "I don't believe that. Whatever this vision means, I don't think it's meant to be taken literally. Some of your visions aren't literal, are they?"

She shook her head. "Sometimes, they're a hint of something that happens. Once I saw Anna laying in the road - a car had driven over her arm."

"And what happened to her?"

"She tripped over a toy car some kid left on the floor of the coffee shop and broke her arm."

"So her arm was disabled, because of a car, but not the way that you saw it," Finn said, sitting back. "Is that right?"

Bryony finally stopped shaking, slumping wearily to the side. "Yes. But how do we know it's not literal? Sometimes my visions are - like with my parents."

Finn pulled her down so that she was lying on her side, facing him on the bed. "Look at me, love. Would you ever hurt me? Deliberately?"

She stared at him, her eyes filling with tears again. "What if it's not deliberate?"

"You think something or someone will make you kill me?"

"I don't know. I don't know what to think."

He thought for a moment. "What if they're not your vines?"

"What?"

"You say I'm always killed by vines. But what if they're not yours? You're not the only Dryad I've met, you know."

Bryony looked troubled. "You think it's Roan? He hasn't done a thing to hurt any of you."

"I know that. But we've also got a queen who dislikes mankind enough to curse an entire kingdom into starvation. She's not going to take kindly to our attempts to undermine her."

She reached out, touching his face. "I would never hurt you, Finn."

He wrapped his hand around hers, bringing her fingertips up to his lips. "I know that, love. In the meantime, you need to calm down. Whatever this is, however it plays out...we'll figure it out. Together."

She nodded. "All right." She started to push herself upright.

"Where d'you think you're going?" Finn asked, arching a brow.

"I think it would be better if I took the other empty room. You must be awfully tired of getting pulled into my personal hell."

He pulled her closer. "D'you know what I'm tired of, love? I'm tired of you telling me that I should be tired of you." He leaned in, kissing her softly. "I'm not going to be, you know. Not anytime soon."

_Not ever,_ he thought. He kissed her again, then once more, soft, slow kisses that deepened into something stronger as he pulled her closer to him. God, but she fit to him perfectly - it was as though her body were made to be against his. How did Kai put it? She was his perfect counterpart, and he felt it all the way down into his bones. She moved when he moved, she gave and received and everything about her seemed to be made with him in mind.

And when he poured himself out within her, feeling her pleasure as strongly as his own as she clenched and shook around him, he knew he'd never find anyone who completed him like this. He fell asleep wrapped around her, with her name upon his lips.

Bryony drifted on the edge of sleep for a long while, her mind strangely awake despite her body's languor after Finn's lovemaking. She replayed the dream in her mind again, remembering fragments. The fish, the river, the rock all around her. And why was she trying to save the fish? Why? None of this made any sense, and all of it seemed to point to Finn in danger, and despite what he thought, it was most likely because of her.

She eased herself out of his arms, and made her way over to the window, pulling the curtain back slightly. Dawn was graying the horizon, and from here she could just make out the water, and the docks below. Finn rolled over in his sleep behind her, and she glanced back, but he didn't wake. She pulled the curtain back again, and suddenly, there he was.

Roan stood on the dock, arms crossed, looking up at her as though waiting patiently. Was he inviting her to the dance again? She glanced back at Finn uncertainly, but her blood felt the call of the dew and it was nearly overpowering, now that she'd had a taste of it. He had said that he wouldn't keep her from them. Did he mean it?

She dressed quickly, pulling on her pants and a flowing shirt that she left untucked, not bothering with boots or a cloak. There was a chill in the air but she hardly felt it, her blood was humming and her feet flying, barely touching the stairs. She let herself out, stepping onto the dock.

Roan's eyes lit up, scanning her briefly from head to toe and back again.

"Good morning," he said cordially.

"Good morning," she smiled warmly at him. "Did you come to invite me to dance again?"

"Not yet," he replied. "I was hoping you would walk with me. I have something to show you." He extended his hand, and she glanced once more up toward the window.

"Is it far?"

"No. Not far at all."

She nodded, but didn't take his hand. "All right. Lead on."

They walked together down the dock, then onto the stone walkway that circled in front of the castle and over to the opposite side of the fjord, stepping down onto the beach. Bryony looked over at Roan as they walked, but he seemed unhurried, and content merely to get to know her. Finally, she ventured to say what was on her mind.

"Why didn't you tell me that the queen was my grandmother?"

Roan sucked in a breath and his head turned to look at her sharply. "Who told you that?"

"Does it matter? I know, and I want to know why I didn't hear it from you."

He looked uncomfortable. "It was not my place to tell you so."

"Then why didn't the queen?"

"Alona has her reasons," he said carefully. "She doesn't entirely trust humans, and with good cause. You've been raised by them, so she wasn't sure where your loyalties lie."

"She told me you were all my family," Bryony said, picking her way through the rocks along the beach. "I had no idea she was speaking literally."

"We are your family," Roan nodded. "And she meant what she said. You are one of us."

"Do I - " she bit her lip. "Do I have brothers and sisters?"

He smiled kindly. "No. Your mother was Alona's only child, and when she was taken by humans, it devastated her."

"And my mother's father wasn't Dryad - is that right?"

Roan gave her a dark look. "Whoever is feeding you information is correct. Your grandfather was a human. The result of a foolish dalliance at the summer solstice. We indulge ourselves sometimes, but only at the solstice can our women carry seed. Alona was fond of your grandfather - much as you'd be fond of a pet, I suppose. He was killed by the men who took your mother."

"Why didn't you go after her?" Bryony asked, troubled.

"We didn't know where she'd been taken," Roan said bitterly. "Markus kept her locked away. It wasn't until she escaped with your father that we found her, and by then, it was too late."

"Then why not just kill Markus? Why starve the rest of the kingdom?" she asked.

"Did they stop him?" Roan said, rounding on her. "They knew she was his prisoner. They knew she was being held against her will. Did any of them help her?"

A frown creased her forehead. "My father did. And Brangane."

"And they murdered your father for it, didn't they? He pointed out coldly. "They'd have murdered the girl, and you, too, if they'd have found you."

She didn't know how to answer that, so she didn't. She glanced around. "Where are we going, anyway? It's been a lovely stroll on the beach, but I do need to get back before - "

"Before you're missed? Before the come to find you? To stop you?" Roan crossed his arms. "Are you not allowed to walk with your feet in the earth or dance in the dew? Do they deny you your very nature?"

"It's not that, exactly - " she protested.

"Isn't it?" He looked at her calmly, then he gave a sigh and reached for her hand. Once again, she felt a small jolt at the feel of his flesh touching hers, as if there were magnetic forces at work, pulling her in his direction. He gave a slight half-smile, then he tugged her hand, turning her around.

"I brought you here for this," he said softly. She gave him a questioning look, then looked toward the cliffs, where he'd turned her to face. A gasp tore from her throat and she froze.

"Is that - "

"Your mother and father. As they are now, anyway."

Bryony walked slowly up the beach toward the bush, noting the vines growing out of the cliff wall, twining all through it, bowing it over into the arch she had seen a thousand times since her earliest memory. Here her parents had taken their last breaths, trying to keep her safe.

She fell to her knees, burying her face in her palms. She felt Roan's hand upon her shoulder, offering silent comfort as she sat at the shrine to her murdered parents. Parents who shared a true love. Parents who never got a chance to love her, for more than a few moments. All because of the greed of men.

"She should have brought you to us," Roan said quietly. "The girl. You would have been safe."

Bryony took a deep, cleansing breath. "She was supposed to. My mother asked her to."

Roan's hand tightened on her shoulder. "But instead she betrayed you, offering you like a sack of wheat to a pair of humans she didn't even know. And because of their actions, you were kept from the only family you had left."

Bryony's face tightened, and the tears flowed unchecked down her face as he helped her gently to her feet. "I didn't do this to cause you distress," he said, wiping her tears gently from her face. Once again, she felt that strange pull, and her eyes widened.

"You feel it, don't you?" Roan whispered. "That's blood calling to blood. You are one of us, Bryony, as was your mother before you. You should have been born among us, danced among us. We would have cherished you. You would have been loved for exactly who you are."

"But..." she swallowed hard. "I'm human, too."

"I know," he said softly. "And it doesn't matter."

He leaned in slowly, and she had plenty of time to pull away, but she was so heartsick, so lost, and he was comfort. He was caring and she felt her eyes closing as his lips met hers.

And when she opened her eyes, she saw Finn, standing at the water's edge, staring at them both.


	42. Rivals

"Finn."

Bryony whispered his name, moving to step away from Roan, but he wasn't about to let her go. He kept his arm around her waist until she was forced to push against him.

"Let me go," she said, pushing at him again.

"You heard the lady. Let her go," Finn's voice was quiet, but his eyes were locked onto Roan's.

Roan looked down at Bryony. "I cannot let you go to him. It's not safe."

Bryony looked at him like he was crazy. "It's all right," she reassured him. "Now let me go."

"Let her go, Roan. Now." Finn's voice carried a more than obvious threat.

"Roan." Bryony's eyes met his, pleading. He released his arm, but didn't move away from her.

Finn's eyes shifted to Bryony. "Let's go."

"She has a right to see where her parents rest," Roan said coldly. "You cannot keep her from being who she is."

"And neither can you," Finn replied. "Let's go, Bryony."

Roan took a menacing step toward Finn, dropping to his knees to place his palms in the sand. Bryony only had time to scream, "No!" as the vines whipped around Finn's legs, but before they could pull his feet out from under him, a giant wall of water rose up on the shoreline behind Finn. He moved his arm and the water arced over his head and came to a stop just above a very surprised Roan.

"You're Naiad." His eyes blazed with anger.

"Only partly," Finn bit out. "I'm human, too. Just like her."

"Then we shall see whose blood wins out," Roan said, getting to his feet as the vines climbed higher up Finn's legs.

Bryony rushed forward between them, her arms outstretched to either side. "Stop it! Both of you!"

"He doesn't belong here," Roan said angrily.

"Let him go!" Bryony shouted. "Roan!"

"Stay out of this, Bryony. I can handle the likes of him." The water above Roan's head was swirling wildly now.

"No! Finn - stop!"

Roan reached for her arm, intent on pulling her behind him, and Finn saw him grab her and reacted - the water rushed down over Roan, swirling around him, surrounding him in a whirlpool. At the same time, Roan threw all he had into his vines, wrapping them around Finn's neck and throat as Bryony screamed in reaction. She dropped to her knees, burying her hands in the sand. One set of vines tangled around Roan's, snapping and pulling his vines away from Finn, while another set snaked through the whirlpool, pulling Roan free. Vines and water receded and both men landed hard on the sand, coughing and gasping for air.

Bryony pulled her vines in with a snap, pushing up to her feet. She stood over the both of them.

"If you're quite through..." she sputtered. "You're like a couple of dogs with a bone." She glared down at both of them as they regained their feet, eyeing each other with open dislike.

"I'm going back to the tavern now, but if either of you so much as twitch a finger at each other, I'll truss you both up and leave you here. Idiots." She glared at them a moment longer, then turned on her heel and headed off down the beach.

Roan stared coldly at Finn. "You cannot keep her from us."

"I can keep her from _you," _Finn replied.

Roan gave him a taunting grin. "We shall see." He gave one long leap, then another, and in seconds he'd bounded out of sight down the beach. Finn watched him go, not trusting him one iota. Finally, he turned to follow Bryony, jogging until he caught up with her.

"Go away, Finn," she said, not bothering to even look at him. That alone infuriated him all over again. He spun her around to face him, his fingers biting into her upper arms.

"Go _away_?" He said incredulously. "As if I've wronged _you_?"

She turned her face away, then gathered her courage and met his eyes. "Finn," she said quietly. "_He_ kissed _me_. And it was for all of two seconds."

"But you bloody well left my bed to go dancing off with him, didn't you?" He snapped. "Is this a normal occurrence for you? Dallying with another man while the smell of the first is still on your body?"

Her head snapped back as if he'd struck her. "You think I came out here to...to...with him?"

"He had his lips on yours, love, and you weren't exactly fighting him off."

"He surprised me!"

"Really? I'd have never guessed - I surprise you and I get knocked on my arse!"

"You're as bad as he is. Let go of me." She pulled her arm out of his grasp and started walking again. She made it three steps before he stepped in front of her.

"Oh no! You're not running out on me again."

"Move."

"No."

Her eyes narrowed. "I can _make_ you. And you know it."

"Do your worst, love. I've got the water right here." He gestured with his hand, pulling up a wave and letting it crash against the sand.

Bryony put her hands on her hips. "You think I'd use my powers against you?" she asked, outraged. "And you'd use yours against me?"

"Wouldn't you?" He growled.

She dropped her hands, and when she looked up at him, her jaw trembled.

"No, Finn, I wouldn't. Not now. Not ever." She sank down wearily on a nearby rock. "I was only going to flip you over to get you out of my way. And I don't want Roan." She glanced back down the beach, and her eyes filled with tears. "I just wanted to see my parents. That's all."

She got up to her feet, pushing aside the hand he put out to help her, and continued walking toward the tavern. Finn fell into step silently beside her.

They walked silently along the beach, then up the stone walkway in front of the castle before stepping back onto the dock. Bryony stopped at the door to the tavern.

"I'm sorry, Finn. I shouldn't have allowed him to kiss me." She said quietly.

He took a deep, calming breath. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that, either. I'm sorry." He ran a hand over the back of his neck. "I just don't trust him, and after what we shared last night...when I woke up and saw you leaving with him..."

She nodded. "No, you're right. I shouldn't have encouraged him. I didn't realize he felt as he did." She squared her shoulders. "And I shouldn't have been encouraging you, either."

Finn's eyes widened. "What?"

"It's not right. I'm only here to get this job done, and then I'm going home."

"Home?" Finn gestured around him. "You _are_ home."

"This can't be my home." She shook her head. "I'll see this through, and then I'm leaving." She reached for the door of the tavern, and Finn's hand crashed down on it, holding it shut.

"Bryony - "

"Let me go, Finn." Her voice caught, and she lifted her chin, trying her best to look resolved. It was damn near impossible. All she wanted to do was slide into his arms right now. But that wasn't best. She needed to put some distance between them - for his sake, and for hers.

He took his hand off the door, stepping back. She wrenched it open, stepping inside and then she ran for the stairs. Finn stood in the doorway, watching her go.

At the table by the door, Snow's concerned gaze met her husband's. David looked over at Finn, who was still looking at the staircase. He let out a sigh and leaned in to his wife.

"I know that look, too."


End file.
